Submission

Not always a degrading experience, just USUALLY.

It’s been a busy summer, to say the least. I always fool myself into believing that it will be the way it was when I was young- long balmy days full of whatever I want them to be. A splash of gin in my lemonade? Sure! It’s summer, that’s what summer is for! You’re on vacation!

An impulsive summer jaunt to Chicago for a weekend was a thing that I could do, once.

I never took the salad days for granted. Even at the time, I was extremely aware that they would change someday and I would have to adjust. I was right! Not only can I not just leave any time I want to for a bit of rest, relaxation, and healing, I have to carefully plan that getaway time.

Here’s the kicker, though. I feel such intense guilt when I get that time only to happily waste it on consuming entertainment. Whether it’s watching a movie, gaming, or even reading a book, I can feel every minute slipping away irrecoverably. Even if my creative energy has been utterly depleted I feel pressure to run on fumes just to try to build my own legacy.

I work as an editor, and I think the job suits me very well. I’m great at catching typos and noticing plot holes, and I stress a lot about the EXACT right word. I try to make things very easy on the authors I work with, because while I don’t hold back what I really think of how well a scene is executed, I try to at least leave suggestions for a better word choice or an alternative way to write an engaging conversation. I’m good at writing dialogue. I’m sort of a walking thesaurus on a good day. I am in my element when I can just wrap myself in a creative process, turning it into a cocoon where I’ll eventually emerge with something beautiful attached to me that wasn’t there before.

Whoever said that a rolling stone gathers no moss was LYING, though. I’m actually angry about this, because whatever I’m focusing on isn’t allowed to become a cozy little cocoon of creativity anymore. It attracts more opportunities, projects, and attention. None of which I’m complaining about, mind; it’s an amazing thing to be recognized. No one is owed an opportunity or entitled to assignments or gigs. But this is my soft little moment to explain that, while I have no reason to believe that I’m not doing well, it’s a LOT.

It’s also, maybe, my armored little moment to defend everything that didn’t get wrapped this summer to my ultimate satisfaction.

1. THE CHILDREN

My oldest child is eight. Middle is seven, youngest is four and turning five this month. Third grade, second grade, and preschool, respectively. And I saw a LOT of all of them, all summer. Time lost all meaning, they went feral, they ate constantly and never stopped except to make enormous messes and squabble with each other. “Kicking them outside” only works so well when they are still young enough to need a certain amount of supervision, and whatever you want (and especially whatever you need) your children to do, they will resist it as though you are threatening a cruel and unusual punishment. While we had the occasional lovely playdate with friends to break up the monotony, Creative Cocooning was pretty much out. I did my best, but under enough stressful chaos to completely negate the fruitful focus that precedes ultimate productivity.

2. THE EDITING JOB

I work with a wonderful author whose original ideas are unparalleled. This latest book, For Want of a Dragon, is probably her best yet, and I predict that it will be very successful. She’s a marketing genius and with the extras she’s commissioned and a great Kickstarter campaign, she’s killing it. I’m so proud and happy for her. To earn my coin, though, I spent a huge chunk of my summer working on editing this book. Most of my writing time went towards reading and re-reading to make everything a little more polished. I learn new things with every editing experience and I feel like this was a great one. It was a worthy bite out of my limited summer time, but a bite, nevertheless.

3. CAMP

Big back angle.

We attend a family camp every summer, usually toward the end of July. It’s a church camp. It’s a little bit of a cult, depending on who you ask, but my husband grew up with it, considers the other campers family, and as I’ve gone with him for over a decade now I’ve come to agree that it’s a unique and beautiful place with absolutely amazing human beings. I’m honored to have them influence my children, and I’ve worked as a dorm mother for the last two years and found the experience very rewarding. I started going to camp feeling like an outsider, having not grown up with it or gone through the “Survivor” initiation. But I eventually found an identity as the camp’s resident violinist.

This summer, an amazing woman came to camp for the first time. Everyone fell in love with her. I fell in love with her. She was immediately embraced, and is probably a better musician than I am. She is blind, which makes her giftedness even more impressive. She shared her abilities generously and without self-consciousness or shame.

I know that someone else’s excellence doesn’t inherently mean my inadequacy. I know that a bright light doesn’t dim mine. I know that music is not all I have to offer my camp experience. I struggle a lot with feeling like it takes a long time for people to like me; it’s rare for me to be drawn into an inner circle. I’ve rarely been a bridesmaid and when I have been, I’ve been the one on the very end who has the most tenuous connection to the bride but fits (and can afford) the dress. I don’t make friends easily. I am easy to exclude. I’m too much and not enough, and I suspect I’m often tolerated with forced politeness when my exclusion is unavoidable. My first years at camp felt isolated and difficult because everyone else was close, and I was the outsider and the weirdo who could only do one thing of any value well.

Karen’s excellence is a shining light that is a boon to everyone it touches. Her skill and passion touched me. I hope she returns again and again to camp. I’ve just had to confront the uncomfortable truth that so many of my interactions have been transactional and people-pleasing, and it’s done little to raise my perceived value in the eyes of others. I’m at a point in my life where I’m not really sure how to do that, and like J. Alfred Prufrock, I can hear the mermaids singing, each to each, and do not think that they will sing to me.

4. THE SOLO

I believe that every musician has a piece they dream of playing. A golden and glowing moment to really excel and reach through time, touching the ears and the heart of the person who originally composed that music. Somewhere, Mozart, Mendelssohn, or Tchaikovksy is thinking, “Yes, that’s exactly how I wanted it to be played.”

Then again, I also believed that every musician wants to be a soloist. It sort of blew my mind when my husband and father told me one Christmas that, actually, some people are very happy with a supporting role. They don’t see it as a demotion or a consolation prize. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around that one, the same way I’ve been trying for years to understand what kind of person would choose viola first.

My dream piece is Scheherezade, by Rimsky-Korsakov. Not just because of the dreamy and technically demanding violin solos woven throughout the symphony like signature kisses and soft, beseeching prayers. That would be enough, but the truth is, I am Scheherazade. I see so much of her in me.

Maybe if I’m competent and entertaining enough, I can survive one more day.

I learned partway through the summer that what started as a joking suggestion with an honestly desiring core has come to pass. My orchestra is programming Scheherazade, and I am her voice as the violin soloist. Needless to say, I’ve been taking every spare second over the summer to work on tone, vibrato, and the technically baffling difficult sections. At camp, I spent lots of time in private working on them, spending intensive sessions on just a few notes that are a tenuous leap of faith into beauty or disaster. Having a violently obsessive personality is actually a boon, regarding such endeavors.

Probably not acceptable concert attire.

There isn’t no pressure. There’s a lot of pressure. But it’s the kind of pressure that I wear really well. Playing the solo in Scheherazade is as powerful for me as what I imagine an actor would feel if he or she had an opportunity to play a personal hero in a play or a film. Scheherazade is a personal hero of mine, unable to change an oppressive system, but with a will to live so strong that she persevered and thrived within it.

5. The Concert

This is the third summer I’ve been responsible for organizing a chamber concert in August. I am not good at this kind of thing. Managing moving parts and overseeing processes is a very grown-up job, but I’m happiest when I’m stuffed in a cocoon and given something of beauty to perfect. I’m thrilled to be a performer, every time and always, but the background work always stands to be messed up in the uniquely dumb ways only I’m capable of. You can count on me to fail due to one really stupid oversight, to the point where I joke that this will be what kills me someday. One dumb and easily avoidable decision will end me in a flash, and the people at my funeral are going to be very sad, but also silently judging me.

“Why,” they’ll ask themselves as Leonard Cohen’s “Anthem” plays over a photo montage, “didn’t she just look left before turning, one more time, just to make sure it was safe? Why did she mix those cleaning chemicals in a poorly-ventilated bathroom? Why did she put THAT in the microwave? A child would know better. Such a brainless waste.”

Anyway, the concert went great. Everyone who helped out was incredible, everyone who performed clearly practiced more than they needed to. Our Vice President Stephanie was our emcee and went truly above and beyond, and our librarian Gene was thorough, shrewd, and will definitely NOT die because he overlooked a stupid and obvious detail. He has all bases covers at all times, and I basically just really want to be Gene when I grow up.

Our last piece, Jewish Wealth by Kees Schoonenbeek, drew a crowd from a community I respect and admire. We’ll be performing it for fundraisers at synagogues in the Lansing area, resulting from this performance’s success, and I’m beside myself with the honor of the opportunity.

6. THE SUBMISSION

It’s actually an astonishing metaphor for my summer, the fact that it’s taken until the very end of this post to mention it. With so much else in the way, it’s absolutely been like that.

Anyway, about a week ago I got over myself and submitted a short story to a Villains Club anthology. In the words of Wendy Day, the author of For Want of a Dragon, it is “twisted but fantastic.” In the words of my authors’ group, it’s something only I could write.

I’m actually pretty hopeful. There’s a strong chance I messed up formatting (which fits well with the dumb mistakes that will always ultimately end my chances), but content-wise, it fits the prompt well. It’s funny. It’s charming. It’s original and satisfyingly outrageous. I’ll certainly submit it to other contests, magazines, and anthologies if this one doesn’t pick it up. For now it feels like such an achievement to have submitted anything at all.

That’s honestly the hardest part.

7. Miscellany

These things were helpful to me when it came to ultimately surviving this summer. Maybe they’ll be helpful to you, too.

1. CIRCUIT CLEANING

Do you have too much to do and not nearly enough time to do it? Me too! What I like to do these days is make a list, in no particular order of things I need to get done today. These might include the following:

-Kitchen

-Laundry

-Spider maintenance

-Editing work

-General Straightening

-Phone/Email errands

-Clean bathrooms

-Practice Scheherazade

-Practice for the chamber concert

The magic bullet is spending no more than 10 minutes on any one thing. This is an anti-cocoon in the sense that you won’t get lost in one task all day long, to the expense of everything else that’s necessary. You can keep the dishes and laundry rolling, make sure that the living room isn’t drowning in clutter, and make sure that nothing is sitting too long. Prioritize the deadlines, but when you’re done you just repeat and eventually eliminate when the job is truly done (if it’s that kind of job. Household stuff honestly has no end which makes it endlessly frustrating to cocooners.)

2. FOOLPROOF BARBECUE PLEASER

If you have a barbecue or a potluck to attend, and you don’t have a lot of time to cook, or you’re short on ideas, I have the easiest way to make people happy with the least possible amount of effort. Everyone loves this dish, and it is 100% comprised of delicious fresh ingredients that are perfect for summer (even late into the season.)

Buy:

Cherry tomatoes (four pints)

Mozzarella pearls (two packages)

Fresh Basil leaves

Balsamic Glaze

Bamboo skewers

Prepare:

Wash tomatoes and assemble skewers. Follow the pattern of 1 tomato, 1 mozzarella pearl, 1 basil leaf. Stop when you put on the 4th tomato. Arrange skewers on a platter until you run out of something. Drizzle with balsamic glaze, sprinkle with a pinch of salt if desired, and serve.

Result:

You will go home with an empty platter, feeling very proud.