It’s Better Over There

I attended the Austin Romance Writers of America new members tea even though I’ve been a member for nearly a year.  Apparently, there hasn’t been a new members’ tea in four years. Not that this chapter has been dragging its feet.  I think it’s a very active chapter and time has just slipped by. At least that’s from my newbie perspective.

I arrived thirty minutes late, but I came bearing a glass vase with three beautiful, showy pale green hydrangeas that accented my dress. I don’t know why it was important for my gift of flowers to go well with the dress I was wearing, but that was among the deciding factors for my flower selection. Moreover, I proudly sported my “I Voted” sticker, which reminded some Austinite members that they could participate in early voting as well.

As soon as the hostess saw the flowers, she exclaimed that hydrangeas were one of her favorite flowers. I announced that if those flowers could talk, they’d scream after the way I had driven to get there. We shared a laugh and other members claimed that they could still smell the fragrant flowers even after the hostess had taken them to another room.

The best thing about arriving half an hour late is that there was no waiting for the spread of food, which consisted of a sinful assortment of delicious sweets and a few savory finger foods to balance out one’s palate. I made myself a mimosa and after foraging from the food table four times (hey, I’d swam 21 laps before coming out!), I poured myself a glass of sweetned tea.

In between trips to the food table, I managed to talk with some members. I had an interesting one-on-one conversation with a member who used to be an avid ballerina until her inner critic obsessed so much that she no longer found dancing ballet enjoyable. I was happy to hear that after a 5-year hiatus, she’s resumed taking ballet classes in a less competitive place and with a better headspace.

Our dance conversation had taken place in the kitchen and gradually most members had migrated to the kitchen as well, bringing the lively, loud energy that a group of female writers carry around with them. I slipped out of the kitchen and joined three members in the living room–after hitting the food table again.

I learned a lot about the pitfalls of publishers, contracts, agents and writing contests. Two of the three women had been college professors and they sympathized with my complaint about the dumbing down of education. I confessed that the current educational system was so counterproductive to educating students that I wished to become a better business person in order to generate income.

Both former college professors told me that I’d be swapping one set of problems for another and yet they did admit that I’d be more empowered to get things done as my own boss than as a classroom teacher. Something I already figured out, but it was good to hear from the voices of experience.

Also, I’m trying not to fall into the pit of “the grass is always greener on the other side.” Yet, I think I’m on the right track since, despite the insomnia-producing challenges I’ve faced this past week, I’m still motivated to figure things out and move forward. I’m learning so much and it’s just exciting to see what all is available to me.

After the tea, I dashed home and changed into my first edition “Tribe of One” T-shirts. (I already know the changes I’d like to see made for the second edition!) Took a nap and headed to the hotel where the salsa congress was taking place. I’d agreed to volunteer for four hours in order to attend the salsa show and dance. I already knew that my allergies and medium energy level would prevent me from staying out too late.

The selfish reason for volunteering is to attend a cool event for free, but I had such an enjoyable time talking with the organizers and my fellow volunteers. I met people who I normally would not have, I picked the organizers’ brains with my small business questions and saw salsero friends who I had not seen in a while.

The salsa show was entertaining as usual, but I saved myself some grief by watching it while standing up against the wall.  That way, I wasn’t bothered by all the arms in the air, holding technology to record the show.

During the down time after the show and before the dance, I felt my energy fading. I figured I’d dance as much as I could in about thirty minutes. It took about that long for the live band to start playing. Until then, I danced with several guys from Houston and San Antonio with a few guys from Austin mixed in. I only stayed long enough to dance one song played by the live band and then I went home.

I figure it’s always better to leave on a good note instead of letting the night become stale. Even so, I kind of dragged in yoga class this morning. The studio felt a bit hotter than normal too, but I was surrounded by some strong yogis and that truly helped in the beginning. As a matter of fact, that could be a reoccurring theme in my life: surrounding myself with strong, positive people. If anything is going to make my new endeavor successful, it be with the help of like-minded people.

Setting Things in Motion

Two things that I set in motion for the upcoming batizado e troca de corda are printing up Tribe of One T-shirts and getting a credit card swiper for my smartphone. Both endeavors have had hidden challenges.

First of all, the original credit card processing company I wanted to go with would have given a percentage of the credit card processing fees to my school of choice. Of course, I immediately leapt on that. But after talking to them about how small my small business was, they suggested that I should go with a cheaper option since they would not be set up to deal with such a small business as mine until the summer. So, it’s still a possibility, but not for this upcoming event. The freaky thing is that the company is based in Texas and they were planning to approach school districts in Austin the very week that I had contacted them.

After contacting a couple of other credit card processing companies, I then focused on getting my T-shirts together. One thing that makes my book cover so beautiful is how colorful it is and that is also the challenge of getting T-shirts made. I’d have to pay for every color since there would be a different screen for each color.  I chose four main colors and since the color of the T-shirt would be will, the design would include five colors. Then I chose a different color for the web address on the back.

The first challenge was the book cover file was poor quality. That’s when I learned the difference between JPEG and PDF. Fortunately, I had a usable PDF for the bookcover that worked. The T-shirt guy just needed to edit the file to squash it to the four colors that I wanted.

I knew he was busy and that we had merely discussed things without me actually putting in an order and paying a deposit. In order to get a jump on things, I asked my unemployed graphic artist sister, Carla, to edit the file.  I talked to her about it on a Saturday, sent the file with detailed instructions to her on the following Sunday. She called me once she got it and said she’d have it ready for me on Tuesday morning.

Come Tuesday, I anxiously checked my email several times, but never received one from Carla.  During my lunch break, I called her. She spun a story about how she had to get some food together for her church since they had asked her to cater at the last minute and she also had to pick up her son from work and blah, blah, blah.  I cut through the list of excuses. I reminded her that she had 5 hours in between the present and leaving for her church meeting. Then talked her through how much time it would take her to complete the food preparation, pick up her son and finish editing the file.

 A couple of times, she told me that she could finish editing the file after she returned from church.  I repeatedly reminded her that that would be too late since I wanted to go to the print shop after school that same day, which is what I’d told her on Sunday when she agreed to have the file ready by Tuesday morning.

Part of the problem that I had to help Carla overcome was the timelessness of her existence. She’s been unemployed for so long that she’s lost the meaning of urgency.  She questioned why I couldn’t go to print shop Wednesday versus Tuesday. I told her that I had something to do after work every day of the week up until Friday. She then asked why couldn’t drop by the print shop on Friday. I explained as best as I could without giving into my temper that the difference of going three days later may result in getting my order in too late.

I then temporarily forgot that she was my sister who I loved and switched into firm teacher mode. I reminded her that she’d given me her word that the job would be completed at a certain time and that if she expected to run her own business that she would have to honor her word to people. I could hear her discomfort as I told her more things that she needed to hear.

A few hours later, I received the file and her apology for dragging her feet. I thanked her for her work and told her that she’d be so happy once I brought her T-shirt in June. After school, I raced to the print shop. 

In the meantime, the guy from one of the credit card processing companies called me to let me know that I’d been approved to receive a credit card swiper that attached to my smartphone. I was so happy that something had come through on that pursuit.  Of course, the hidden steps revealed themselves. The guy sent an email, but I couldn’t access it until we hung up.  Then once I received it, I couldn’t sign the agreement electronically by holding down my cursor key on my phone nor could the phone’s screen be used as a touch screen. Now aware of my smartphone’s limitations, I told the guy that I’d sign the document electronically once I returned home, but at that moment, I needed to rush over to the print shop.

Fortunately the print guy was in even though he wasn’t expecting me.  I downloaded the file Carla had edited.  I knew that it wasn’t good enough quality  to be used, but he said that seeing it helped him with editing the good file. I chose the type of white T-shirt I wanted, made a down payment and left with the assurance that the shirts would be ready the day before I actually wanted to pick them up.

The first thing I did when I got home was to sign the credit card agreement, using my netbook. The other hidden step in getting my credit card swiper didn’t reveal itself until this past Friday when I called three different numbers to see when the device had been sent. From what I could gather, someone had left a partial message earlier in the week, and needed to talk with me in order to send it out.

Now, I’ve got another thing to do Monday before school starts. Hopefully, whatever issue there is, can be resolved in a few minutes.  I’m also hoping that I’ll receive my device by the end of the week.

Plus, I’m picking up the T-shirts on Thursday and at some point next week, my new business credit card will have arrived. That endeavor took me three times to convince the credit card lawyers that I owned the art, which is my book cover. Now part of my book cover will be on my credit card.

I know that things are going to come together since I’m determined that they will. I also know that one day, I’m going to look back at these stressful weeks of trying to take my business to the next level while still maintaining a full-time job and laugh. For now, I’ll continue taking deep yoga breaths.

Living My Dream

So I first got the heads up that I needed to exit the teaching profession the first year I taught in Austin, TX.  That conclusion came to a shock to me since I’d never thought that I would ever need to exit the classroom until I retired.

I’d taken so much time researching where I wanted to live in the States after 8 years teaching abroad and was broadsided by the plantation-style management of public schools here in Texas. Although I attempt to be as creative as I can muster while working within an educational system that I disagree with, I didn’t become a teacher 16 years ago to fight battles with a network of people who desire to profit, literally, from the brutal, systematic standardized testing of students.

As I explored both my interests and the job market, three things became apparent to me: 1) I wanted to remain in Austin; 2) I had no desire to be in another classroom setting that was subjected to profiting off student standardized test scores; 3) I no longer wanted any asshole in my professional life who I’d refer to as a boss.

Now, nearly three years after coming to those conclusions, I’m still living in Austin, I’m still teaching in a public school setting and I’ve stepped up my game to become self-employed. In pursuit of completing my transition, I’m attending a 2-day workshop to help me flesh out some things that I’m perhaps overlooking.

So far, the 30 other participants and I have introduced ourselves one by one, including where we are now in life and where we want to be. I’ve helped a few of the participants who are also writers realize some other directions that they can go in as well as suggest capoeira to a couple of people who want to get back into shape. As a matter of fact, I’m taking a CD of capoeira music to today’s session so one of my fellow capoeiristas and I can demo a friendly game to everyone.  I think just hearing the music will be intriguing.

Yet, I’ve not landed my a-ha! moment of how to improve my pursuit of happiness beyond what I’ve already put into motion. Hopefully, today will be as entertaining as yesterday with an unexpected insight into a new direction that I can explore.

Brazilian Music Weekend

By an extraordinary mix of schedules, I spent the better part of this weekend immersed in some genre of Brazilian music.  One of my friends and fellow capoeiristas discovered that a Brazilian band was scheduled to play at one of my favorite dance venues this past Friday.  Since that was the day grades closed for the next to the last marking period, I knew I’d be in the mood to blow off some steam.

She picked me up early so we could first eat Brazilian food at a nearby restaurant only to discover that they were closed until the next week.  We regrouped at another friend’s house who was going to meet us at the restaurant and chose a different Brazilian restaurant that none of us had tried before.  What an excellent call!

I shared a platter of  grilled pork, chicken, steak and sausage that came with a bed of white rice, small pieces of cheese bread, hashbrowns, a too small ramekin of spicy red sauce and a pile of crushed bread crumbs (I guess). Of course, I washed all of that delicious food down with a caipirinha.

Well-fed, but not stuffed, we made our way to the venue just as the cumbia band had finished playing and the Brazilian band was setting up to play. Just as Brazil is a large, diverse country, so is its music scene. None of us had ever heard the band before, yet we expected to hear samba. Most of the music played sounded more like bossa nova. Nonetheless, I danced my money’s worth, including a few songs with a partner.

Neither of my friends were interested in listening to the second set played by the cumbia band, which suited me just fine since I had a relatively early morning on Saturday.

I made a special effort to attend the capoeira music class at noon on Saturday since I’d previously practiced playing two berimbau rhythms, the easiest of the two was “Angola.” The other one, “Sao Bento Pequeno,” is very similar, but I’ve not practiced playing it enough for the rhythm to be in my muscle memory. As a matter of fact, I had started playing Sao Bento Pequeno very slowly and sped up, thinking that I’d finally become comfortable with it. I burst out laughing when contramestre told me that I’d been playing Angola once I sped up. 

Since Angola was obviously the “home base,” contramestre showed us a variation to make it a richer rhythm. Toward the end of the lesson, we practiced my current nemesis, sao bento pequeno.  I’m going to get that rhythm one day!

As usual, I dashed from capoeira music class to tango lessons. On some molecular level, I think my health improves when I play and dance to music. Afterwards, I regrouped at home and then headed out again to listen to another Brazilian band that plays forro. To my ears, forro sounds like the most lively jig music that’s heavy on percussion

The usual suspects were there, including many people from last night. That’s one of the reasons I never mind going to venues by myself since, at this point, I know I’m going to bump into people I know. Even though the weather caused the band to play in an enclosed area rather than out in the open, we all crammed onto the tiny dancefloor and danced until we glistened with sweat.

Normally, I would have felt self conscious about going anywhere else besides straight home, but I intended to drop by a birthday party for the sister of another capoeirista. I thought it was going to be a teeny bopper party; so my plan was to make an appearance, wish her a happy birthday and then go home.

Apparently this young woman just looks like a teenager, but is legal age and knows many musicians since she’s a musician herself. As a matter of fact, nearly everyone at the party played some instrument and/or sang. When asked, I said that I played the “capoeira” instruments, which was as much as I’d admit to being a musician.

Yet, nearly two hours later when the other capoeiristas showed up, we put on an impromptu music roda, where I started off playing the agogo (double cow bell). Some other musicians who were not capoeiristas joined in. Who could resist playing along with a berimbau?

We carried on for nearly an hour singing different capoeira songs.  After breaking out into the second sweat of the night, I finally felt that I could go home well satisfied.

Now that I’ve revitalized my soul, I can face  the last week before standardized testing starts. I’m so glad I stocked up on energizing music.

Death, Taxes & Inspiration

Admittedly one of the words in the title to this blog post doesn’t seemingly belong with the others. Yet, filing my taxes last month inspired me to be a better businesswoman.  I think my exact words after filing my combined personal and small business taxes were, “Why am I not a millionaire yet?!”

Afterwards, I thought about what I could do with the modest refund that I’d receive in a few weeks.  Just like that, opportunity knocked on my door via email. (Bad mixed metaphor, but acknowledging the problem is the first step to improvement!) The group I train capoeira with, Capoeira Evolucao, had sent all the information necessary for interested businesses to become our sponsors. As soon as I read through the information, a feeling came over me that this was just the promotional investment I’d been looking for.

Back in December 2010, I self-published my first novel, Tribe of One. As exhilarated as I was to see my manuscript finally in print, I had the daunting task of promoting it. All last year, I thought the best way to do that was through setting up reading events.  I bought audio equipment and prepared press kits. For a while, I hustled around town, trying to set up readings in coffee shops and lingerie places since I had a collection of racy poems I’d written over the years and had planned to read the more “adult” passages of my book.

My little engine ran out of steam in a few months. The amount of energy and time needed to book reading gigs for myself was not worth the consistently smaller audiences that I’d read to. I wasn’t initially concerned with book sales at the events, but the whole word-of-mouth thing didn’t happen for me either. As a matter of fact, the best tip I got at my second reading was to join a professional writer’s group, which has been a valuable source of information and support.

In addition to training capoeira, I’ve been picking the brains of several capoeiristas who have small businesses on the side as well. Their insightful, free consultations have been wonderful.  Not only that, but in any endeavor, it is always best to be surrounded by like-minded, positive people who believe in me.

Since my business is primarily writing, I’m not in direct competition with my capoeira group although I will also have T-shirts for sale, albeit not capoeira-themed T-shirts. Speaking of which, the official capoeira T-shirt for the event will have my “logo” on the back along with the other sponsors. Since I don’t actually have a logo, my book cover art will serve that purpose.  Just seeing that beautifully colorful African woman on several shirts as well as my on own T-shirt is going to be very exciting.

Granted, advertising doesn’t necessarily mean that I’ll receive matching or surpassing sales, but after experiencing a year of virtual no promotion and months where I had no sells, surely this is a step in the correct direction.

Spring Tango Festival 2012

One of the lessons I learned two years ago was that attending dance workshop blitzes only left me feeling like a zombie, too pooped to enjoy the big dance party on Saturday night.  So, for the past two dance festivals, I just skipped all the torture and just partied at the Saturday night hoopla!

Since the spring tango festival was hosted at a dance studio 30 minutes away from where I live, I was in no danger of attending the long weekend schedule of classes. Instead, I attended the Saturday night milonga, the biggest during the entire festival and the one that featured all the instructors performing.

I surprised myself by arriving early enough to enjoy the first hour of live music, which I had not done in my previous two years of attendance. As a matter of fact, the first time I’d attended this milonga, I’d only been taking tango lessons for two months and didn’t know the three genres of music normally played at a milonga: tango, Argentine waltz (aka “vals”) and milonga.

I equate milonga to merengue since it’s a high-energy dance where you step on every beat. The first time I’d ever heard milonga music was three years ago at the spring tango festival. My partner at the time hadn’t heard of it either and we faked our way through the entire tanda of four songs. Once we sat down, we asked a mutual friend what the hell was that music we’d just danced to.  Of course she laughed at us, told us what it was, and complimented us on faking our way through it.

Thanks to our clueless beginnings, we now have a tradition of dancing one milonga tanda together. This year, however, my usual milonga dance partner was usurped by an extremely sure-footed Argentine gentleman who literally kept my booty shaking throughout the entire tanda. We danced past my usual milonga partner and he was anxious to dance with me, but admired the fact that a highly skilled dancer had beat him to asking me to dance. Nonetheless, when the next milonga tanda came up, my usual partner was still late in asking me to dance, but at least he wasn’t too late!

Even though tango has been the most challenging dance for me to learn, I’ve finally gained subtlety and gracefulness for the basic and intermediate steps. I loved how each dance partner had his own sense of expression and I could follow with my own sense of style. I still have a ways to go until I become one of the most sought after dance partners since I cannot pull off the advance moves.

Last summer, I took a break from tango lessons since I wanted to free up my schedule.  Now, I’m looking forward to dancing tango as much as possible so I can reach the next level.

2012 Capoeira Evolucao Fundraiser

For months, I’ve suspected that my capoeira group had become significantly better ever since we moved into our new studio last year. Initially, we all swelled with pride at how beautiful our training facility was: newly installed wooden floor, freshly painted walls the colors of the Brazilian flag and featuring a mural of Mestre Bimba, Mestre Pastinha and Mestre Rodrigo. Then, faced with unrestricted studio access, a variety of classes bloomed Monday through Saturday: fundamentals capoeira, all levels capoeira, kids gymnastics, adults gymnastics, roda, family fundamentals class, music class and the newest set of classes, primal fitness bootcamp, and Brazilian Beats dance class.

Such a variety of classes merely hinted at the diversity of our members, who absolutely shone during Saturday night’s performance. The show opened with one of our capoeiristas entertaining the crowd with her colorfully lit hula hoops. Not only did she keep her hoops in the air and twirling, but danced to a fast salsa song without missing a beat!

As the next capoeirista set up to spin fire, the feijoda had arrived in a promising big shiny metal pot. In addition to the black bean stew, the meal was rounded out with little biscuits, greens, white rice, ground sausage (separated from the stew for vegetarians) and oranges sliced into wedges.

Just as the food line had started in earnest, the fire spinning began.  From my perspective, I enjoyed watching people make the choice of going through the buffet while turning around to check out the fire dancer. There was definitely something tribal about eating a traditional rice and beans meal while watching a fire dancer perform.

Several capoeiristas scrupulously cleaned the floor of kerosene before two other dancers and I did our rendition of afoxe, a secular Brazilian dance whose roots can be traced to back to Yoruba religion. With the help from one our Brazilian Beats teachers, I modified a West African choreography I’d learned in college.

Accompanying us were our very own band of capoeirista musicians who had rehearsed playing both afoxe and samba in addition to our capoeira songs, which are an integral part of training capoeira. I felt exhilarated not only from the adrenaline rush of performing, but the singers and musicians had hit the mark beautifully.  Their energy fueled me to dance my best. From what I could tell, the other dancers were moved by the music as well.

As we prepared a roda to play capoeira, our emcee for the night, mentioned several things that were being offered that night, including my book, Tribe of One.  I stepped forward and took a bow when my name was mentioned. Another capoeirista had agreed to sit at the table where my book was displayed and handle sales, which was a great plan. What I wish I had known prior to this night was that I could have accepted credit card payments. My capoeira teacher would have allowed me to use his machine and would’ve written me a check for the total sales, but I only found out about that arrangement at the end of the night.

Next opportunity, I’m going to have the proper phone app in place so I can accept credit card payments. One challenge to being a self-published author is learning all I can about being a small business owner. Now that I have a daily writing habit to advance my manuscript, I need weekly “entrepreneur improvements” to advance my business.

Once our roda was complete, we stood in a semi-circle about 30 capoeiristas strong, including some guest players who joined in to support us. I felt so proud seeing how much my friends had improved. There were several fast-paced games with high flying kicks. For anyone in the audience who had previously thought of capoeira as a dance, I’m sure we changed their minds! One of my friends later told me that she’d never seen such a strong (skilled) capoeira group.

Although I love training capoeira for my mental and physical health, I rarely play outside of a performance. During this particular performance, I chose not to change into my pants because we had such a large number of people; so I clapped and sang in support. Yet, when we started samba de roda, another afoxe dancer and I opened the floor by circling the roda, holding our flowing skirts.  She brought a guy to the center of the floor to dance with her. We played our usual samba flirtation where a couple dances in the center. Throughout the song, another woman will take the woman’s place by playfully bumping her out of the way with her butt or some other diversion. Other guys will displace the guy by doing some macho diversion to dance with the woman. This goes on until the head musician who’s playing the gunga (bass) berimbau signals for the samba to end.

We had some of our audience up dancing with us before we ended. At that point, I finally had an appetite. I socialized, ate, danced a little more to the music the DJ played before packing up my things to go home. If I needed any more evidence that I’ve reached “middle-agehood,” then leaving a party before it’s over is surely it.  Oh, I can shake it like I used to, but just not as long! My bed had never slept so well.

Sunday morning, I returned to the studio for part two of our fundraising event, which was a garage sale. Although lower key in terms of energy and razzle-dazzle, many people came out to purchase the used furniture, art and “artifacts” for sale.

Now that the weather’s beautiful, I’m going out on my balcony on the weekends to paint so I can offer my book and paintings–along with credit card option!

Staycation 2012

The one adult thing I had planned to do during this spring break was file my taxes. The rest of the time, I’d indulge my creative passions: writing, dancing, painting, training capoeira,  swimming and doing yoga. The last three things may not seem like artistic pursuits, but without the stress from the daily workplace grind, I found myself exploring different boundaries within the exercise disciplines, from slightly altering the way I kick when doing the butterfly stroke to modifying my grip when I’m practicing bikram yoga. Somehow, like magic, my capoeira capabilities change as both my strength and flexibility improves with the other two disciplines.

I worked on my taxes a little Monday through Friday, with the final blitz of “getting her done” on Friday.  I’m glad I took my time since this was my first time to file taxes on my own as a small business owner rather than returning to a professional tax preparer. I learned so many things, including that, by sheer luck, I’m using the “correct” credit card for my business expenses. I learned on Tuesday that my business credit card provides me with a year-end summary, breaking down my expenses into different categories and organizing the information into several graphic styles. That just pleased my little Virgo heart to no end!

I made four birthday cards for the family members who were born in April. I still need to create more to get better at card-making, but at least I got them all completed and mailed off while still on vacation. I had the brilliant idea to make all the birthday cards for my family and mail them out in January…that way they can open them on their actual birthday and I could cross that off my list in one fell swoop.  One of my sisters laughed at me, but I’m seriously thinking about doing that for 2013.

I completed 1 1/2 mini paintings.  I can already tell that both of them will eventually be cut up further and in some shape or form help decorate a future greeting card. I’m not saying they’re ugly, but cutting out the flaws really helped my last batch of paintings.

I trained capoeira on my normal days, but at least I had more energy for it. I’ve even been practicing a traditional Brazilian dance called afoxe.  It derives from a Yoruba religious practice,, which in turn became candomble in Brazil, but we’re dancing a secular version. As a matter of fact, I’ve found myself in the surprising role of choreographer, or should I say “dance modifier”?  I simply modified funga, which is a West African welcoming dance. I’m impressed that I still remember the sequence.  I’m so happy that of all the things I’ve learned and have forgotten, I still remember that one dance, which was the first West African choreography I’d learned.

This is all in an effort to help out the fundraiser that we’re hosting at the Capoeira Evolucao studio next Saturday. In addition to dancing, I’ll have Tribe of One available since my capoeira teacher is allowing me to sell it in exchange for a comission to the studio. I excitedly emailed the information to my professional writers’ association. I advertised it as a “Brazilian style book signing” and included the event flyer. They were impressed at the packaging of the event. One writer showed me her date book where she’d penciled me into her schedule.

Speaking of writing, after Tuesday’s monthly writing meeting, I was inspired to put a gag on my inner critic and let my imagination and fingers fly.  I had been wondering how all these professional writers could generate pages of material on a somewhat daily basis.  Imagine my surprise when I heard writer after writer admit that the first draft is SHIT! Some confessed to having no dialogue while others stated that their first draft was almost exclusively dialogue with no tags, emotions or background setting.

The next morning, I raced through incorporating a huge portion of the notes I’d gathered when I was in Utila to research my story. I had the ability to do that all along, I just hadn’t freed myself from pursuit of perfection. Another thing that totally makes sense to me now is why pour so much time and energy into a particular sentence, paragraph or chapter for the first draft when I may end up completely changing it or cutting it altogether?

And of course, I’ve managed to grow the overall height of my ever-rotating stack of books.  Can’t say that I’ve read more than I’d planned to since I still waited until bedtime to read. I truly think having a hammock on my balcony would help that. I still love how nearly every book has a tangential association with every other book.  Some of the connections are intentional. Others are uncanny coincidences that I dreamily think the universe wanted me to read.

Despite the fact that I’ve done yoga about 7 times during this break, I’ve come down with the sniffles, which I’m tempted to dismiss as allergies flaring up again. Yet, part of me thinks that it’s psychosomatic. I know this is the last day of vacation and my body’s reacting like this. One of my friends took pity on me and gave me a variety of herbal teas to help me through it.

Every little bit helps.  Just like last night, when I returned from the matinee milonga, I completed the photo gallery of celebrities to base my comic strip characters on and emailed the file to my sister. She’s going to illustrate for me. I’m so excited for this collaboration. I’ll have to figure out how to schedule writing this script into my already busy schedule.  I already know that it cannot be a daily pursuit, but I’ve got to make it a weekly thing.

Come what may tomorrow, I’ve truly enjoyed my break and the rest of the school year will rush into summer break.  Amen!

Social Media Recluse

Ever since I self-published my first novel, Tribe of One, nearly two years ago, I’ve been nagged by thoughts of social media. One of the main joys of self-publishing is the satisfaction of finally having something tangible to show for all my hard work. My major challenge is promoting my work.

I’m well aware of how social media has revolutionized self-promotion and communication and yet…I’m still reluctant to do anything more than email and blog.

I have several revulsions toward setting up anymore social media platforms. The number one reason is the amount of precious time it would take to “do it right.” Since I am a full-time high school science teacher, I barely have time to work on my current manuscript, read from my rotating stack of books and magazines and take a myriad of dance and fitness classes. When school is in session, I honestly don’t have room in my tightly packed schedule to fit in yet another thing that would seemingly take daily effort.

A few friends suggested that if I “did it right,” I could generate enough income so I could quit my day job, which would free up more time. Right. More realistically, I’d sooner be laid off then I’d  approach social media as a means of not going insane with a whole 24 hours on my hands. Besides, setting up another social media platform would distract me from drowning in depression caused by unemployment.

Another consideration was brought to my attention when I bumped into a former college friend of mine. We exchanged business cards. Whereas my business card exuded artistic flair, promoting myself as a fiction writer (since high school teachers rarely have business cards advertising ourselves as teachers!), her business card listed: cell number, office number, fax number, facebook, linkedin and twitter. She was  immersed firmly into many social networks, but the visual that sprang forth was my friend trapped in a huge spider web, waiting to be sucked dry by the black widow of social media.

There is such a thing as being possessed by one’s possessions even if those possessions exist in cyberspace. Social media is the latest evolved technological mutant, promising to make life better, accomplishing things faster, giving you more.  Ever stop to wonder what those improved, fast, abundant things are? Or to evaluate if the quality of your life is truly better?

When I graduated from UNC-Chapel Hill, I started my teaching career as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Tanzania. Among the vast, beautiful, life-changing experiences that I encountered, I marveled at how much time I suddenly had without many time-saving devices.

I had time to write long letters back home, read more books than I ever had in a 2 1/2 year time period, cook meals from scratch (since prepackaged starters were not readily available and usually expensive for a PCV), and journal. The hectic pace of my typical American lifestyle came to a screeching halt when I moved to Tanzania. Doing simple tasks such  as withdrawing money from the bank or buying a stamp from the post office involved being in a barely perceptible moving line. Yet I never wasted time since I knew to bring a book or stack of post cards to write out as I waited.

The irony  of  using time-saving devices, just like using social media, is that I don’t save more time. I just raise the bar on more shit to do within 24 hours. With the few social media platforms I maintain, I don’t communicate or stay in touch better with people–unless it’s the people I tend to see on a regular basis anyway. I figure the “other people” who I don’t email/call/text/see regularly are just fine with the monthly/yearly/need-to-know timely updates.

Now that I’m living in the happening city of Austin, I’m even LESS inclined to add another strap of social media to myself. I love it when I didn’t know about so-and-so’s party or such-and-such’s event until after the fact since that means I didn’t have to whip out my phone, look at my social calendar and debate whether I can fit it into my schedule.

I remember as a precocious adolescent, I’d read about a reclusive writer, living in a cabin in the woods without a telephone. At the time, I thought that guy must have been some grumpy old man who  was probably socially retarded. Now that I’m older and wiser, I  understand his choice. In order to get anything creative accompolished, one has to isolate one’s self in a productive space to create.

In this hi-tech world, writers no longer have to live in the boonies. The boonies can be anywhere by creating a communication void. Imagine, creating a cyberspace of nothingness within the social media fabric.

I maintain my cyber void by using face-to-face communication. Just like being out in the sunshine for at least 15 minutes a day is healthy, so is being around actual live human beings, especially when you can surround yourself with positive, productive, creative people who are happy to be alive.

Of course at any time I could relinquish my social media reclusion and bind myself to many social media platforms in order to promote my work, but that would surely be the day I start selling pieces of my soul for money.

Vatican City Prostitutes

I can truly tell that spring break is a week away, given how challenging last week was. Due to two doctors’ appointments, I took Wednesday off, but I still felt just as drained on Friday as if I’d actually worked five days.

I noticed that one of my neighboring teachers, who is new to my high school, but not the teaching profession, also looked just as drained. I asked him how things were going and he said that he couldn’t believe how things were organized at our school. He’d moved from a high school in San Antonio and just figured that since we taught in the capital, things would be much more organized.

I laughed and said the first thing that came to mind. “That’s just like expecting Vatican City not to have prostitutes!” We shared a laugh and he said he really liked my analogy.

It’s wonderful how such a small, humorous comment can make life breathable…at least long enough to finish out the remaining class period of a draining week.

I did myself a favor on my day off by going grocery shopping after my doctors’ appointments, so I could cook for the upcoming week three days earlier. That little schedule shuffling came in handy, given the fun things that I’d planned to do on the weekend. Plus, I got to munch on my delicious black olive and eggplant quiche for a couple of days before dividing it up into individual lunch containers for the upcoming week.

I had organized for three capoeira girlfriends to join me to see the latest Cirque du Soleil show, Quidam. The tickets were a little pricey, but we splurged in order to treat ourselves to a wonderful show and hang with each other.

Our evening began at my place for a little happy hour. One friend abstained from drinking for Lent, which made her the designated driver for the night. Although our happy hour was BYOB only the teetotler actually brought her own drink. Boxed red wine to the rescue!

We hit the road to the Cedar Park Center, which was an easy, entertaining 30-minute drive since we had some good conversation going the whole ride north.

Once we hit our seats, the “ringmaster” began interacting with the crowd for a few minutes. The show officially began about ten minutes later. That was such perfect timing, given that three out of four of us were mothers who had to settle childcare obligations before going out.

I’d seen another Cirque du Soleil show called Alegria about ten years ago; so seeing another Cirque du Soleil show was long overdue. Just like the other show where I remember holding my breath and fearing that someone would get hurt or drop something, I loved the show and marveled at the physical strength and flexibility of the acrobats.

One of the clowns interacted a lot with the crowd while the acrobats set up for the next breathtaking feat to shame the rest of us stiff, overweight slobs. (I should be losing weight over the next 30 days though since I’ve joined in my capoeira school’s physical challenge!)

For all the contraptions that suspended the acrobats in the air and objects juggled too high for my comfort, my favorite acrobatic part was the couple who balanced in different positions, using only the strength and flexibility of their bodies.

Afterwards, we made the mad dash into the cold, crowded parking lot. Our designated driver had the forethought to park near the end of a row so we could get out in little time. We then rode back into Austin to a sweet little hole in the wall. Another capoeirista friend had invited the group to this place in order to celebrate a birthday and just hang out and have a good time in general.

For $5 a person, we danced to Brazilian and African music and had access to an all-you-can-eat buffet.  I was initially weary about that buffet, but it was absolutely delicious, consisting of mixed vegetables, a beef dish, and a chicken dish. Everything was seasoned so beautifully, I suspect it was all laced with pork. 

I’m so happy to train with such a diverse group of people who are interested in doing various cultural things in addition to capoeira. It truly helps to make the stress and illogicalness of school a more bearable situation.