Because rare is the writer that actually makes a living from writing, and I'm no rarity, I supplement my income with editing work. Some writers would consider editing work a trip to the Dark Side, but the jobs measure well against the Big Three Criteria For Freelance Jobs that I use to make sure I maintain my integrity: Is it legal? Is it moral? And, most importantly, does it pay enough for a bowl of corn chowder and a buttermilk spice muffin at Mimi’s Cafe?
When I edit another author’s work, I largely refrain from even a hint of a raised eyebrow, because I know that for every fissure I find in someone else’s writing, there’s a deep crevasse in my own. Occasionally, though, I just can’t help it. Occasionally, I run across some little ditty that not only raises an eyebrow, but sends it flying up into my hairline.
So, okay, I’ll show you what I mean. Here’s a quote from a manuscript I read recently. Okay, not an exact quote, an almost-quote, because, along with my Big Three Criteria for Freelance Jobs, I also adhere to a list of How to Avoid Frivolous Lawsuits. Number one on that list is: Don’t be an idiot.
So, here’s what the author almost-penned:
Patricia pondered Max’s dilemma. “Isn’t there someone who could bail you out?”
“No. I’d just as soon slit my wrists than ask my brother for help,” Max said.
Sensing animosity, Patricia fell quiet.
Sensing animosity? Boy, that Patricia. I thought, as I pulled down my eyebrow. Nothing blows past her.
Then, just this morning, I had my own Patricia Moment.
I woke, mind spinning with my latest issue. I sighed. “Isn’t there a way to turn off my brain?”
I opened a daily meditation book and read the first line: “No problem lasts forever.”
Sensing truth, I fell silent.
Sensing truth? Boy, that Jerri. I thought, untangling my eyebrow from my hair. She doesn’t miss much.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Monday, March 3, 2008
A Bible Story
God knows, I’m no Biblical scholar. So I may get part of this wrong. I also need to attribute some of the humor to Rev. Richard Rogers, who spoke at my church Sunday. Yes, I go to church. Mostly because I’m no Biblical scholar, and, as I just said, God knows. So I’m hoping attending services makes it up to Him. I think that’s called hedging your bets, but I’m not sure, because I’m no gambler either.
Rev. Rogers brought up Lazarus. It’s a popular story at this time of year, the time leading to Easter, which I do know about because it’s when K-Mart starts selling Easter egg baskets, those flimsy, multi-colored ones that always look so cute tied with a ribbon and loaded with candy, but you can never figure out what possible use they have after that, because who decorates their house in fushia, purple, yellow, and emerald green? Yet, at the same time, they’re so cheap that, next year, instead of re-using the one you bought this year, you’ll buy a new one. And then you end up with a cabinet full of old Easter egg baskets because it seems a shame to just throw them out, and if anyone ever figures out a great thing to do with them, well, come see me.
From what I understand of the Lazarus story, Jesus didn’t catch the first call from Lazarus’s sister or something, so he didn’t reach Lazarus’s deathbed until a few days too late. For most people, that would pose a problem, but not if you’re Jesus. He simply decided to wake old Lazarus up. (Note: Rev. Rogers put the spin on this next part, so if you want to call or write anyone about being sacreligious, you give him the ringy-dingy and not me, okay?) Lazarus’s sister was skeptical when she heard about Jesus’s plans. She said something along the lines of, “But, he’s been dead three days. Won’t he be kind of, well, smelly?” (I looked this up, by the way, and she really did say that, although she used “decayeth,” which sounds worse than smelly, so I’m sure that’s why Rev. Rogers paraphrased her.)
I’m sure everyone standing around waiting to see what happened thought the sister was just whining, so they shushed her because, sheesh, Jesus was about to perform a danged good miracle, if he could pull it off. They weren’t sure. But she was. As Rev. Rogers pointed out, she was the only one in the crowd that had faith. What she was saying was, “I don’t have any doubt you can do this, Jesus. But... do you really want to?”
Anyway, we all know what happens after that. Lazarus gets up, and, we’ll assume, someone hands him a bar of soap so he won’t be shunned during the celebration they’re about to have in his honor. (In Kansas, we’d gather to light candles and pray, in Texas, they’d have a barbeque. I don’t know what they did back then.)
After telling this story, Richard Rogers went on to talk of faith and reaching for the impossible and how on person can change the world. I’m sure most ministers emphasize the same thing, which is all true and good to know.
But I was thinking about this afterwards, and it struck me that it’s too bad we gloss right over Lazarus’s sister to get to the good stuff. because the sister had a lot to say here. Every day, we’re making choices, big and small, for good or bad. And, each time we do, shouldn’t we be asking ourselves, “Well, yeah, I can do this. But do I really want to?”
Easter’s also the time of year when a lot of people decide to give something up for Lent. That something is often chocolate. Even if buying another new Easter basket makes no sense, getting one does, seeing as they’re usually loaded with chocolate and will arrive at a time when you can finally eat it again.
But the thing is, do you want to?
Rev. Rogers brought up Lazarus. It’s a popular story at this time of year, the time leading to Easter, which I do know about because it’s when K-Mart starts selling Easter egg baskets, those flimsy, multi-colored ones that always look so cute tied with a ribbon and loaded with candy, but you can never figure out what possible use they have after that, because who decorates their house in fushia, purple, yellow, and emerald green? Yet, at the same time, they’re so cheap that, next year, instead of re-using the one you bought this year, you’ll buy a new one. And then you end up with a cabinet full of old Easter egg baskets because it seems a shame to just throw them out, and if anyone ever figures out a great thing to do with them, well, come see me.
From what I understand of the Lazarus story, Jesus didn’t catch the first call from Lazarus’s sister or something, so he didn’t reach Lazarus’s deathbed until a few days too late. For most people, that would pose a problem, but not if you’re Jesus. He simply decided to wake old Lazarus up. (Note: Rev. Rogers put the spin on this next part, so if you want to call or write anyone about being sacreligious, you give him the ringy-dingy and not me, okay?) Lazarus’s sister was skeptical when she heard about Jesus’s plans. She said something along the lines of, “But, he’s been dead three days. Won’t he be kind of, well, smelly?” (I looked this up, by the way, and she really did say that, although she used “decayeth,” which sounds worse than smelly, so I’m sure that’s why Rev. Rogers paraphrased her.)
I’m sure everyone standing around waiting to see what happened thought the sister was just whining, so they shushed her because, sheesh, Jesus was about to perform a danged good miracle, if he could pull it off. They weren’t sure. But she was. As Rev. Rogers pointed out, she was the only one in the crowd that had faith. What she was saying was, “I don’t have any doubt you can do this, Jesus. But... do you really want to?”
Anyway, we all know what happens after that. Lazarus gets up, and, we’ll assume, someone hands him a bar of soap so he won’t be shunned during the celebration they’re about to have in his honor. (In Kansas, we’d gather to light candles and pray, in Texas, they’d have a barbeque. I don’t know what they did back then.)
After telling this story, Richard Rogers went on to talk of faith and reaching for the impossible and how on person can change the world. I’m sure most ministers emphasize the same thing, which is all true and good to know.
But I was thinking about this afterwards, and it struck me that it’s too bad we gloss right over Lazarus’s sister to get to the good stuff. because the sister had a lot to say here. Every day, we’re making choices, big and small, for good or bad. And, each time we do, shouldn’t we be asking ourselves, “Well, yeah, I can do this. But do I really want to?”
Easter’s also the time of year when a lot of people decide to give something up for Lent. That something is often chocolate. Even if buying another new Easter basket makes no sense, getting one does, seeing as they’re usually loaded with chocolate and will arrive at a time when you can finally eat it again.
But the thing is, do you want to?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)