Norma Nill

The Sna-kirema

Norma — Sat, 11 Feb 2012 23:00:58 +0000

When was the last time you sat around and read a play aloud with your family or another group? You’ve never done that? Well, then, here’s one you’re welcome to use.

The Sna-kirema
by Norma Nill, 1988, updated 2012

Professor Worm
Professor Mole
Dynamo Dachshund (boy)
Lucky Ducky
Fiddlefaddle Frog (boy)
Jazzy Jaybird
Hunkydory Cow
Taffy Giraffy (girl)

Dynamo Dachshund: Fiddlefaddle! Just look at you. Am I impressed!

Lucky Ducky: Me, too. What’s up?

Fiddlefaddle Frog: You like it?

Lucky Ducky: Sure.

Dynamo Dachshund: But don’t you think a bow-tie is a bit too formal for school?

Fiddlefaddle Frog: Not at all. You see, I’m dressed up for the occasion. We’re taking a class in Culture, so I want to look—you know—cultured.

Jazzy Jaybird: Hate to disappoint you, but it’s not that kind of culture.

Hunkydory Cow: We’re studying customs and habits of various groups.

Fiddlefaddle Frog: Oh….you mean we’re not going to listen to Mozart or see an opera? I got all dressed up for nothing? Bummer!

Dynamo Dachshund: Don’t feel bad, Fiddlefaddle. We can go to a concert later if you want.

Jazzy Jaybird: Now you’re talking! I heard Louey Armadillo and Fats Walrus are in town.

Dynamo Dachshund: Actually, what I had in mind was a little Johann Sebastian Bark.

Professor Worm: Good morning, Class. Professor Mole and I are excited about the new unit we’re starting today. In the first lesson, we’ll learn that every people group is unique, just as each type of animal group is unique.

Professor Mole: Have you ever noticed that customs that are different from your own seem strange? For example, let’s consider the Sna-kirema. Have you ever seen any, Lucky?

Lucky Ducky: Dozens of times.

Taffy Giraffy: Everyone’s seen them.

Professor Mole: Okay. What’s interesting about them? Hunkydory?

Hunkydory Cow: They love boxes. It’s amazing—almost everything they make is shaped like a box.

Professor Worm: Can you give us an example of how they use boxes in daily life, Taffy?

Taffy Giraffy: They live in box-shaped houses that have box-shaped rooms in them.

Professor Worm: Great. Jazzy, can you think of another example?

Jazzy Jaybird: They keep food in boxes—a huge box with a door for cold stuff and cardboard boxes for stuff like tea and cereal and cookies and chips. Snacks – the Snack-irema. I get it!

Professor Worm: Their name doesn’t come from snacks, but you made some good observations! What else do they use boxes for?

Jazzy Jaybird: Cooking food. They have a big metal box with coils on top and another box inside the box for baking. A fast-cooker box sits on the counter. They also have a little box with slots for toasting their box-shaped bread.

Professor Worm: Fascinating, Jazzy. Notice anything else, Lucky?

Lucky Ducky: They put their money in box-shaped machines at the grocery store, they get money out of boxes, and they send mail using boxes.

Professor Mole: Yes, Jazzy?

Jazzy Jaybird: The Sna-kirema also keep boxes in their living rooms for watching movies and listening to music and playing video games. Some of the people keep their boxes turned on all the time. I’ve seen them through the window.

Taffy Giraffy: They call it entertainment.

Professor Mole: So they do, Taffy, so they do.

Hunkydory Cow: What about the little boxes they carry with them? They’re always holding the things up to their ear and talking, or staring at them or tapping them with their thumbs. They use these boxes to communicate—sometimes with the person sitting next to them. I don’t get it.

Lucky Ducky: In my pond, a box would never work unless it was waterproof and could float.

Taffy Giraffy: I have no pockets for a box, but my friend Kanga does.

Fiddlefaddle Frog: I couldn’t be tied down to a box—no way! I have to be free to hop around without anything holding me down.

Dynamo Dachshund: Me, too. I have to be free to run and sniff and bury bones and catch frisbees.

Jazzy Jaybird: I know some canaries that live in boxes, which they say are nice, but I need to spread my wings and fly over the rooftops.

Professor Worm: I know what you mean, um, or at least I can imagine. We worms have no need for boxes, unless they’re planter boxes filled with earth. Yum!

Professor Mole: We moles would never carry around a box or live in one. But a nice tunnel with curved sides—that’s something else.

Hunkydory Cow: We cows like nothing better than wide open fields of earth and green, green grass. Of course, when it’s snowing, I must admit that a boxy barn can be quite cozy.

Professor Mole: Let’s finish the lesson, class. The most fascinating box of the Sna-kirema is the one they keep in their bathrooms for special pills, powders, and potions. This box is stuffed because the people have a superstition that as soon as they throw anything away, they’ll need it. They keep these chemicals so long they forget what their purpose is.

Fiddlefaddle Frog: Their purpose?

Professor Mole: Yes. They use some of them when they’re sick. Others that are mint-flavored are for teeth-cleaning and gargling rituals. They believe their social relationships depend on making their breath smell minty.

Hunkydory Cow: You mean they’ll lose their friends if they don’t smell minty?

Professor Mole: Hard to believe, isn’t it? The rest of their bathroom products are used to change how their hair and face looks.

Jazzy Jaybird: Why would they want to look different?

Professor Mole: Because they don’t want to smell or look like humans do naturally.

Fiddlefaddle Frog: I wouldn’t want to either.

Hunkydory Cow: Look who’s talking.

Professor Worm: Enough, guys! Sad to say, the people of Sna-kirema believe that human beings are ugly.

Fiddlefaddle Frog: They got that right.

Dynamo Dachshund: That’s not true! Besides, it’s not nice to say someone is ugly.

Professor Worm: You’re right, Dynamo. Everyone is beautiful in their own way.

Dynamo Dachshund: But how do the Sna-kirema change how they look?

Professor Mole: Who can tell us?

Taffy Giraffy: You’re not going to believe this. Every morning, the men perform a ritual of scraping the hair off their jaws. Those who don’t are considered non-conformists. As for the women, many of them follow a ritual of scraping the hair off their legs.

Hunkydory Cow: Who cares about smooth legs? I love mine the way they are.

Taffy Giraffy: My legs are so long it would take all day.

Professor Mole: The thing to remember is that God created us all and that what may seem strange about the Sna-kirema culture is based on logical ideas just as your own culture is.

Lucky Ducky: My way makes a lot more sense—at least I don’t have to scrape off my feathers!

Jazzy Jaybird: Looking at another culture is interesting, but I’m thankful we’re free to do things our own way—think outside the box.

Professor Worm: That’s all for today, class. Tomorrow, we’re going to look at the Gorf culture and learn why a member of the Gorf group would wear a bow-tie to school.

Fiddlefaddle Frog: Who, me?

The End

Books That Stay With Us

Norma — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 05:30:30 +0000

I missed posting here during November because I was in the thick of re-thinking my novel, using strategies from Writing the Breakout Novel, by Donald Maass (mentioned in my September 2011 post.)

Maass says (on page 37) to list three
of your favorite novels as quickly as you can.
So I chose:
1. Lost Horizon, by James Hilton
2. To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee
3. The Lathe of Heaven, by Ursula K. Le Guin

Maass points out that books that stay with us have common elements. Which elements made me choose the books on my list?

My lasting impressions of Lost Horizon were the setting of Shangri La, the characters Perrault the aged one and Conway the protagonist, and Conway’s experience of hearing an unknown piece by Chopin. The book’s message and emotional appeal comes from the mystery of living upwards of 150 years and the detail which makes the fantastic seem believable. (I hadn’t read Lost Horizon in a long time, so I re-read it and watched the B/W movie, then read Hilton’s Goodbye, Mr. Chips and watched the movie. All were excellent.)

Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird left me with an image of Scout, Atticus’s young daughter, dressed in her ham costume as she scurried along a path on Halloween night, and an image of a tension-filled courtroom. Atticus shows us the risk of taking a stand against injustice. I feel like cheering when he does what is right.

When I think of The Lathe of Heaven, I immediately see a cunning psychiatrist in his office, where his troubled client tells him of “effective dreams”, i.e., they come true. What would happen if all of our dreams came true? Le Guin’s answer is that our innate selfishness, if given free rein, would lead to chaos. Perhaps that’s why we don’t get everything we pray for.

I learned it takes me hours and hours of brainstorming to come up with ideas that have a chance of making my settings, characters, their experiences, and themes at all memorable, and I’m still not confident they will be. Nonetheless, I’m itching to work the changes into the manuscript.

Thanks for reading my blog this year. I hope some of your writing dreams come true in 2012!

Reading Trouble

Norma — Fri, 07 Oct 2011 22:21:50 +0000

During the summer, I stumbled across a book called, The Man Who Forgot How to Read, by Howard Engel, the celebrated Canadian mystery writer.
What happened was that the author woke up one morning, picked up the newspaper, and discovered it was full of unrecognizable print. Soon after, he was diagnosed with a mini-stroke that had impaired his ability to decipher letters and words but which hadn’t affected his ability to write. He could write a paragraph but not read it! The account, which was full of drama, fascinated me because I’ve always been intrigued by the workings of the brain. I learned that Mr. Engel started writing a new mystery, called Memory Book, during his rehab, partly because he wanted to see if he could still do it and partly because that’s what he’s used to doing. He’s a writer after all.

So I got a copy of Memory Book, devoured the first chapter, and reluctantly put it aside during the busy weekend.

On Monday, as I was getting out of the car, I pulled a bag of groceries across my lap from the passenger seat, swiping the sack too close to my face and giving my cornea a paper cut. Ouch! (Not only do I suffer the usual aches and pains of middle age, but I also sabotage myself.) Mind you, that was the eye I use for reading; I wear a contact in the other eye for distance.

After my eye stopped watering, I sat down, and pondered the fact that my mother had had eye surgery last week. While I had been sympathetic before, I instantly and more deeply related to her vulnerability.

To relax, I automatically reached for my book. No go. I couldn’t focus enough to make out the letters. Besides that, the pain was so bad all evening that I went to bed with an icepack nestled in my eye socket. The next day, I merely saw double, which was enough to make reading impossible. In desperation, I removed the contact from my healthy eye and picked up Memory Book, once again. In the story, detective Ben Cooperman, like the author, struggled to remember things. But what jumped out at me was that he couldn’t read. Neither could I, at least not with my injured eye. Although his was a cognitive rather than a visual problem, I knew the frustration he felt!

Fortunately, my eye healed in three days, and I can see again as well as before my accident. (Thank God, my mom’s eye is healing nicely, too!) I thoroughly enjoyed the story of Ben Cooperman, especially his humor, and rejoiced when he at last regained his ability to read.

Note: NPR conducted an interview with Howard Engel that’s posted online.

Waiting for the Book

Norma — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 17:47:46 +0000

When life seems to be running on fast forward, i.e., I’m skipping from one activity to the next, the transition back to writing takes time. In the midst of wrapping up loose ends, taking care of everyday life, and preparing for the coming week, I’ve been neglecting the one creative thing I’d hoped to start this week—my revision.

It’s not easy to figure out if I’m stalling because I don’t have the energy, am still caught up in a previous activity, am basically lazy, or feel overwhelmed by the task ahead. But on the surface, my excuse is that I’m waiting for a book to arrive, Writing the Breakout Novel, by Donald Maass. My husband could tell you that I’ve been complaining that it should have come by now, notably on the day that he—not me—got a package from Amazon. Yesterday, when I found another book-sized package in the mailbox, I eagerly opened it only to realize it was for him, too. Ooops.

Funny/odd that I’ve put my creative juices on hold for a book that I read from cover to cover only two weeks ago. (It was a library book, so good I had to order it.) I’m not sure what I expect to happen when it gets here, except that I envision going through it again, using those sticky little post-its to mark the pages that struck a chord with me. In the meantime, I’ve been mulling over some of the big decisions I’ll have to make. Yes, that’s Step 1 every time—coming to a decision.

When you’re master of your book, as all fiction writers are, you make myriads of decisions, from plot to word choice. The decisions I’m facing concern the opening scene, the setting, the stakes, character development, and the ending, which I’ll address when the book arrives. (Providing it really does actually come, unlike the title character in the movie, Waiting for Guffman.)

If you’re a writer who’s hoping to publish, what are you waiting for?

Why Write?

Norma — Tue, 06 Sep 2011 18:58:11 +0000

This week, while reading Donald Maass’s excellent book on writing*, I cringed with new awareness of problems in my novel. Maass, plus feedback from an agent who read the entire manuscript, gives me direction for improvement. Yet, rewriting is a big job that starts with reviewing the basic plot and may mean throwing away dozens of pages. Am I downhearted? A bit. So I went to bed last night asking myself if I have the energy, time (i.e. willingness to sacrifice other activities), determination, and skill to revise my novel so that it’s as good as it can be.

Which took me back to the fundamental question—why write?

On the positive side, I have something to say, based on tons of life experiences, i.e., I’m no spring chicken.

On the negative side, perhaps I express my opinion too often.

But does that mean I put in my two cents worth on every topic of conversation? Of course not! I don’t keep up on all the issues, much less have an opinion about them.

Another consideration is that my writing tends to be sparse and it lacks the richness of style, vocabulary, or depth of, say, Steinbeck, Twain, Elizabeth Moon, or Sue Monk Kidd.

But on the positive side, my take on life is unique. Everyone’s view is! My brother’s childhood experiences, for example, are vastly different from mine because of birth order, gender, his many surgeries, and the places he lived after I left home. It would be fantastic, in my opinion, if he wrote his memoirs someday, perhaps titled, “The Family According to Doug.”

In addition, I believe that what I want to write needs to be said. Writing helps me make sense of life and culture for myself, especially when there are inconsistencies in popular views. I want as many people as possible to read my work. Yes, I’m passionate about it.

On the negative side, my internal editor makes me wonder if I’ll ever be satisfied, after all is said and done, that my book is as good as it can be. For, I don’t always think logically, am too subjective to catch problems until hundreds of words later, hate criticism (I don’t know anyone who likes it!), and continually battle my internal editor.

But, on the positive side, I want to reinforce the truths I’ve learned about life. I feel compelled to show how the transcendent parts of us humans “play out” (or emerge, endure, stand strong) under pressures of youth, hardship, victory, unfairness, success, ageing, and death. I want to share the joys I’ve discovered.

Why do you write?

*Writing the Breakout Novel, by Donald Maass, 2001.
http://www.maassagency.com/books.html

The Power of a Book Sample

Norma — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 23:00:17 +0000

We writers instinctively feel it’s unfair for agents and editors to reject our books from reading only a synopsis and sample chapters, for it seems that if they read more—we’re not sure how much exactly, but why not the entire book?—then they would surely appreciate our true talents.

At the PNWA writers conference in Seattle earlier this month, I happened to have my Kindle e-book reader, so when a speaker referred to one of her novels, I looked up the book in the Amazon Kindle Store, read the jacket blurb, and discovered I could click on the “Try a Sample” button. Instantly, the sample appeared on my Kindle. Later that night, I read the sample, which turned out to be two chapters, to determine whether to buy it or not. An epiphany struck: I was passing judgment on the book solely on the basis of the blurb (synopsis) and sample chapters just as agents and editors do.

To read more or not to read more, that was the question. When I analyzed my process for making the decision, these considerations came to mind.

Did I get pulled into the story? Yes

Did the action or dialogue compel me to turn pages to find out what happened next? Yes

Did I care what happened to the characters and wonder about them after I stopped reading? Yes; in fact, I was disappointed when I reached the end of the sample.

Was there anything objectionable? Not too much, so I decided not to get hung up on it. (Note: Some claim they never censor their reading material, but I think most people adhere to a personal standard beyond which they’re uncomfortable or even offended.)

Was I ready to read this particular genre of story? While it’s not something I usually read, the author had hooked me. Yes, I had to read more.

I doubt, however, that I could have been more subjective if I’d tried. My conclusion? When the writing’s up to par, the final decision turns out to be a matter of personal taste. Good to remember the next time we get a rejection letter from an agent that says our writing’s fine, but “the story didn’t grab me,” in which case we’ll just have to keep submitting until we find agents who do share our tastes, assuming we’re set on going the traditional publishing route. If that’s not the case, we could take the plunge to publish on Kindle.

In any case, don’t give up!

Top 10 Things I’m Learning from Sudoku

Norma — Sat, 30 Jul 2011 01:00:01 +0000

10. Guessing usually leads to failure.
This is also a good warning for Jeopardy players.

9. Too many notes muddle my thinking.
I now put my initial conclusions, e.g. that a particular digit must go in a particular column, outside the grid whenever possible.

8. Puzzles labeled “hard” are sometimes easy and vice versa.

7. Each stage of the search provides its own fun and challenge.
I solve a puzzle in one sitting, if possible, and enjoy getting the most obvious answers out of the way (which reminds me of folding the brightest socks first) so I can get to the nitty-gritty.

6. It’s not necessary to learn popular terms for various strategies.
But knowing them helps when studying method books.

5. Sloppy writing of miniscule digits requires deciphering and wastes time.
I use ink because it contrasts better than lead. When listing the candidates (all possible numbers) inside their squares, I write them big enough to read easily.

4. I can—and must—trust my foundational logic.
If I can’t trust my If-Then conclusions from the very beginning, then I’ll never be quite sure I’m on the right path.

3. Look for patterns!
For example, when there are three cells in a column that share only three digits, I can eliminate those digits from the rest of the column. (When I can’t spot patterns any other way, I use a wet-erase marker on a clear plastic sheet over the puzzle to circle all instances of one digit among the candidates.)

2. Don’t give up! The solution exists—I just have to find it.
This could be said about searching for other things, such as lost objects or the meaning to life. Everything is built on reason.

1. The biggest thrill—the sudden breakthrough—comes just after the moment of biggest frustration.
Patience pays off!

Steve Houchin

Norma — Mon, 04 Jul 2011 23:00:02 +0000

Today, I’m delighted to present an interview with Steve Houchin. I met Steve at a writers group that I first attended about three years ago. Among the two dozen or so participants, Steve stands out not only because he’s tall, but also because he’s always pleasant, attentive, and gives expert feedback on the weekly writing submissions. When I needed a Beta reader, he graciously consented to read and critique my first novel, for which I’m very grateful.

NN: What sorts of things have you written?
SH: I write novels and short stories in the realm of suspense and mystery. Although, my only publishing success so far is a non-fiction article for Columbia Magazine (published by the Washington State Historical Society) that resulted from research for my second novel.

NN: Why did the mystery genre click with you?
SH: Mysteries, thrillers, and suspense novels are my favorites to read. It feels natural for my storytelling mind to dream up similar things. Maybe it’s a chicken and egg thing: do I write what I read, or do I read what I’m destined to write? Romance or touchy-feely prose comes out stilted and unbelievable whenever I’ve veered into it.

NN: How long have you been writing?
SH: In grade school, I wrote goofy things for class assignments that were well received. But, I don’t recall any encouragement to pursue writing, so nothing came of it. It wasn’t until 2004, in my late 40s and unemployed, that I jumped in with both feet. As an avid reader, I’d say to myself, “I oughtta be able to write this stuff.”

NN: Which authors do you like to read?
SH: Martha Grimes’ mysteries used to be a favorite, but her writing has fallen flat in recent years. I enjoy the Douglas Preston/Lincoln Child mystery/horror novels and their great protagonist, FBI agent Aloysius Pendergast. I like the historical novels of David Liss, such as The Coffee Trader. Anything Raymond Chandler. I’ve read all of Patrick O’Brien’s Aubry/Maturin novels. I love Janet Evanovich’s comical Stephanie Plum mysteries. I’ve started reading John Mortimer and Clive Cussler.

NN: What inspired you to write that first story?
SH: I wanted to accomplish something new after years of writing software. I had become the “go to” guy for writing technical documentation on the job because I seemed to be the only engineer that enjoyed writing English (as opposed to C++). I didn’t know how to get started on a novel, though. I’d heard that you must outline a novel before beginning, but I simply couldn’t think it all through that way. Then I heard author J. A. Jance speak, and she revealed that she can’t outline either. Many authors don’t. The proverbial light bulb blazed to life over my head. You mean I can just sit down and write without knowing all the details? So I did. Plots and subplots and characters poured out of me as I pounded out my first novel.

NN: Where do you get your ideas?
SH: I started out with “write what you know.” That was the genesis of my first novel, Linear Descent, which was inspired by my interest in genealogy and history. My second novel grew out of my historical research for the first. Other sources have been movies and online writing prompts. I maintain a simple text file of ideas.

NN: What do you like about writing?
SH: It has opened up avenues for meeting new people and forging relationships where we have writing as a common bond. I enjoy creating stories that receive recognition or that succeed in entertaining readers. I like surprising myself when a scene or plot or character suddenly pops out of nowhere and propels the story in directions I hadn’t considered.

NN: What’s the most challenging thing about writing?
SH: Continuing to write after numerous rejections, tough critiques, or when ideas have dried up.

NN: What’s the easiest part?
SH: None of it is easy. It’s hard work. I suppose if I had publishing success, cashing the royalty checks would be easy.

NN: In what ways have you gained recognition for your writing?
SH: My second novel, Double Fire, won the 2007 PNWA Literary Contest in the Mystery/Thriller category (a total shock). My third, then titled Snowbound, was a 2009 finalist in the same contest.

NN: What are you working on now?
SH: Lots of editing on the third novel, now titled A Suitable End. I’m writing a series of short stories that feature a slacker named Elliot Klopfeld and his goofball adventures.

NN: What have you learned about writing?
SH: Where do I begin? As far as the craft goes …. Show don’t tell. Use action verbs. Set the scene. Make dialog interesting and realistic. Avoid backstory dumps. No long monologues. Make characters distinct. Describe things in unusual, compelling ways. Keep the story moving forward. Don’t write in isolation—have your work critiqued and take the criticisms seriously.

NN: What advice do you have for beginning writers?
SH: Read many authors in your genre/field. Read some outside your genre, especially literary fiction. Read some of the acknowledged masters. Join a writers group with other authors who aren’t all newbies. Attend writers conferences and workshops (if you can afford them). Take a beginner’s writing class at the local community college. Recognize that there’s a lot to learn.

NN: Thanks, Steve, for taking the time to answer my questions. I wish you great success in your writing career!

Steve Houchin is the author of three unpublished novels, several short stories, and is the editor of Weekly Review, a newsletter for the Lake Forest Park Writers Workshop critique group. His second novel, Double Fire, won the 2007 Pacific Northwest Writers Association’s Zola Award (Mystery/Thriller category). When not writing, Steve works as a freelance software developer and is the owner of Forest Park Lab, a Seattle-area software consulting company.

http://stevenhouchin.blogspot.com/

http://www.stevenhouchin.com/

Identical Strangers

Norma — Fri, 17 Jun 2011 07:05:46 +0000

What would you think if you found out in your thirties that you had an identical twin you never knew about? Imagine how meeting that person would change your life.

This is the story of Elyse Schein and Paula Bernstein, authors of Identical Strangers, published by Random House in 2007. After seeing a video clip of these young women recently, I was curious enough to track down their book so I could find out why they were separated and how they found each other.

To my surprise, the book was all I had hoped for and more because both of the twins, who are talented and experienced writers, know how to tell a story that keeps the reader engaged. In alternating viewpoints, first one twin—Elyse—and then the other—Paula—reveals where she was, what she was doing, and how each step of the journey affected her life.

I can’t remember when I first got interested in twins because I grew up with the awareness that my mom, Lorena, had had a twin sister, Loretta. When her mother, Frances, was close to delivery, in the days before ultrasound, the doctor told her she was going to have a hefty boy. Imagine everyone’s surprise when she gave birth to two girls who weighed over five pounds each. Unfortunately, Loretta died of pneumonia when she was only a few months old.

Interestingly enough, after Frances was widowed and had remarried, she had a second set of twins, a girl and a boy, Lynda and Lynn. While it was commonly known that fraternal twins run in families, I also grew up hearing that fraternal twins skip a generation, which indeed happened when my mother didn’t have twins and my sister had a set, a girl and a boy, Jami and Jonathan.

There’s scientific logic behind the idea that fraternal twins skip a generation: a man who inherits the “fraternal twin gene”, which prompts a woman to release more than one egg at a time, does not affect him, but the gene continues down the line to his daughters, who may then give birth to twins. So, while fraternal twins have been observed to run in families, they may skip a generation but not always.

But I digress. As I followed Elyse’s and Paula’s quest for answers about their birth history and separation, where their potentially-shared childhood never happened for reasons that defy common sense and compassion, I sensed their frustration at obstacles along the way and their satisfaction when they finally came to terms with all that happened. You don’t need to have twins in the family to appreciate the gripping, true-life story of Identical Strangers.

http://www.identicalstrangersbook.com/index.html

Dressing the Part

Norma — Thu, 09 Jun 2011 02:30:48 +0000

Last night my husband and I went to the annual church choir dinner, our first. I joined the choir in January, compelled by their amazing sound and contribution to the worship service.

Because I had been invited, as a newcomer, to be interviewed about my book at the dinner—what an opportunity!—I went out and bought a new outfit, a cheery green-and-white sundress with a matching bolero sweater. (In my defense, I must say it was hot the day I shopped and it is June after all.) The only problem was the dress wasn’t available in my size, and the neckline plunged a little too low, so I had to take in the side seams and shorten the straps. Mistake! The waist ended up just beneath the bust, which made me look pregnant, and the dress was now too short, so I had to let out the hem. Still barely covered my knees, but I wore it anyway, thinking others would be in sundresses, too.

Turned out to be a fancy occasion—candles on white linen—with about a hundred guests, most of whom wore some combination of black and white. At least 90% of the women wore longish skirts or slacks, and only four in the entire room sported anything near as bright as my summery ensemble. As if that weren’t enough, the stage was elevated. I wanted to crawl under the table. When the interviewer, who was dressed in a lovely long black skirt and matching sweater, called me up to stand next to her, I felt like Shirley Temple—before she became an ambassador. Arg!

Fortunately, the room was dimly lit, the interviewer didn’t mind that I edged her over so I could hide behind the podium, I was too focused on my notes to think (much) about the dress, and the audience laughed in the right places. Thank God! I hope they remember what they heard more than what they saw.

Such a miniscule thing in that grand scheme of things. Still, you’d think that by now, I’d have learned “what not to wear,” especially as the show of that name gave me the idea in the first place to wear something with a fitted waist. Oddly enough, on the day I shopped, I had tried on a long, dark, demure dress in my size—did I mention long?—that I didn’t buy because it seemed boring. I’m going back today to get it.

P.S. The evening was filled with great speakers, top-notch music, and lots of humor from those in choir ministry. I love singing with them, and last night, their affection and affirmation for one another (including newcomers) spoke volumes. I’m so glad we went.