Filine
03-17-2006, 04:40 PM
Awww Jenna, I am going to miss you so much. You brought me so much laughter and joy and everything else, here on the board I was always looking forward to you posting...I am a bit sad...but I so wish you all the very best in life and remember that I will always always be supporting you in your career! I LOVE ya!!! You are the best!!
xx...
Cindy
Hiya writers!
The other day, I went to an auction. Not a Chinese auction (I’ve been to a bunch of those), but a real live auction with paddles and a fast-talking auctioneer and all. I went mostly out of curiosity. It was at a local church, and I had been working so hard that I hadn’t left the house in several days. A couple of hours away from the computer might do me some good, I thought.
I quickly realized I was out of my league, though, when the opening bids were somewhere between $50 and $100 for most items.
Toward the end, I just wanted the experience of raising that paddle once. One of the items was a huge collection of craft material, and I had examined it earlier. There were 26 skeins of yarn, Styrofoam balls, raffia, hat boxes… the only thing I really thought I’d make use of was the yarn. I used to crochet, before I got so busy. Blankets and scarves. It’s not that I particularly enjoy crocheting—I don’t—but I love, love, love giving (and getting) homemade gifts. Some of the yarn colors were ugly, though, and some were half-used. So I thought it out very practically and decided that if the starting bid were $40, I would bid. Once. Anything over that was just being frivolous.
The time came, and the opening bid was $40! Woohoo! I raised my paddle, waiting to be acknowledged, but in my enthusiasm, kept it in the air too long and didn’t notice someone else had bid. So I accidentally bid $45.
You might think, “Big deal,” but my heart raced. Oh no! I thought. Quick, someone else bid! I was not supposed to spend more than $40 tonight! The auctioneer seemed to wait forever, but no one outbid me. I beat myself up until it was time to pay. I thought about how I was going to explain to Anthony why we were going to have four giant boxes of junk in our living room (I ran out of closet space). When was I ever going to use 22 Styrofoam balls?
I got home and tried to make the boxes look as small as possible, then I ran right back to my office and got back to work—figuring I’d better make up for the stupid forty-five dollars I just spent. But something turned around in my brain as I wrote that night.
There are no paragraphs in my life.
My life is interesting and good, but it is made up entirely of run-on sentences, all smashed together until your eyes cross and you forget where you started, and forget what happened to the subplot on page 47. It entirely lacks places to pause and indent and start a new chapter heading.
But Anthony and I want to start our new chapter. We’re trying to have a baby, and to move to a bigger house (y’know, one with more closet space for yarn and plastic canvas kits). That’s not going to work if I’m still asking myself at 11 p.m., “Did I eat yet today?” and seriously not knowing the answer. I have to make paragraphs. And maybe I was meant to be at that auction and hold my hand up too long and get stuck with a room full of odds and ends… creative tools… possibilities.
For several years, I’ve had a business partner at Absolute Write. He (Bob) will now own Absolute Write, and Amy Brozio-Andrews will become the new editor-in-chief.
Amy started as a book reviewer for Absolute Write many years ago. Not only was she a great reviewer and totally reliable, but I grew to really enjoy her as a person. There’s a spark in Amy, and a kindness you can’t miss. She was a librarian, and is mom to two beautiful young girls. She reviews for trade magazines and e-zines, and writes articles and essays. And she’s working on her novel. Slowly.
Charlie Stuart, who’s been my co-administrator on the message boards, will become “the” administrator on the message boards. If you haven’t met Charlie (ChunkyC) yet, go say hi. To give you a clue about Charlie’s personality, he says that if he could be any movie character, he’d be Samwise Gamgee. Charlie is one of my favorite people in the world.
We also have six supermoderators and 33 moderators who have always been the greatest staff a gal could have.
There are things about running a popular site that can break you if you’re not strong spirited. You leave yourself open for criticism, of course, and stalking, and assorted malice and weirdness. What people may not realize is that you already gave me the best send-off I could have wanted.
All that stuff was getting me down a couple of months ago. I talked about it a bit on the boards, and the response I received made me feel like I was in a movie scene… like in a town hall meeting where, one by one, everyone in town stands up and bolsters the person who’s in trouble. Even the lurkers wrote to me with words of support and caring.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt more validated as a person than I have around here lately. The number of letters I get saying, “Thank you for saving me from getting taken by a scammer” has grown by epic proportions. The letters I get to tell me that I did something right—that I mattered—have made me glow. I’ve always wanted to matter. I suppose that’s why I write.
People don’t get to hear what’s said at their own funerals. I feel like I just did… in a way. On my computer screen, I got to read intensely thoughtful letters and posts that I couldn’t believe were about me. I had to pinch myself a few times and briefly did wonder if I was dying and God was letting me go out on a high note, to make up for all those practical jokes He’s played on my life.
But, no, I think my health is fine. Nonetheless, this part isn’t easy. Absolute Write has been a major chunk of my life for about seven years. It’s been my community, the place where I fit in. The place where I watched a lot of other people find “home base,” too.
I’m probably going to feel like something’s missing for a long time, and wonder if I did the right thing. But I couldn’t leave my “baby” in better hands… Amy, Charlie, and the mod squad are wonderful people, with real dedication to writers.
I could wax poetic about the site, the people behind it, and the effect it’s had on my life for several more pages… but I think you might want to read the rest of the issue. So I’ll aim to finish my thoughts in the coming days and weeks on my blog: http://jennaglatzer.blogspot.com/ (http://jennaglatzer.blogspot.com/) . If you’re interested, please join me over there.
So with that, it’s time for me to go. It has been an honor and a pleasure to hang out in your inbox every week. I thank you for making me feel like I accomplished something great with Absolute Write, and I sincerely hope our paths cross again.
Sending you love and wishes for bigger writing success than you dreamed possible.
I’m really going to miss you.
Write on,
Jenna Glatzer
http://www.jennaglatzer.com (http://www.jennaglatzer.com/)
xx...
Cindy
Hiya writers!
The other day, I went to an auction. Not a Chinese auction (I’ve been to a bunch of those), but a real live auction with paddles and a fast-talking auctioneer and all. I went mostly out of curiosity. It was at a local church, and I had been working so hard that I hadn’t left the house in several days. A couple of hours away from the computer might do me some good, I thought.
I quickly realized I was out of my league, though, when the opening bids were somewhere between $50 and $100 for most items.
Toward the end, I just wanted the experience of raising that paddle once. One of the items was a huge collection of craft material, and I had examined it earlier. There were 26 skeins of yarn, Styrofoam balls, raffia, hat boxes… the only thing I really thought I’d make use of was the yarn. I used to crochet, before I got so busy. Blankets and scarves. It’s not that I particularly enjoy crocheting—I don’t—but I love, love, love giving (and getting) homemade gifts. Some of the yarn colors were ugly, though, and some were half-used. So I thought it out very practically and decided that if the starting bid were $40, I would bid. Once. Anything over that was just being frivolous.
The time came, and the opening bid was $40! Woohoo! I raised my paddle, waiting to be acknowledged, but in my enthusiasm, kept it in the air too long and didn’t notice someone else had bid. So I accidentally bid $45.
You might think, “Big deal,” but my heart raced. Oh no! I thought. Quick, someone else bid! I was not supposed to spend more than $40 tonight! The auctioneer seemed to wait forever, but no one outbid me. I beat myself up until it was time to pay. I thought about how I was going to explain to Anthony why we were going to have four giant boxes of junk in our living room (I ran out of closet space). When was I ever going to use 22 Styrofoam balls?
I got home and tried to make the boxes look as small as possible, then I ran right back to my office and got back to work—figuring I’d better make up for the stupid forty-five dollars I just spent. But something turned around in my brain as I wrote that night.
There are no paragraphs in my life.
My life is interesting and good, but it is made up entirely of run-on sentences, all smashed together until your eyes cross and you forget where you started, and forget what happened to the subplot on page 47. It entirely lacks places to pause and indent and start a new chapter heading.
But Anthony and I want to start our new chapter. We’re trying to have a baby, and to move to a bigger house (y’know, one with more closet space for yarn and plastic canvas kits). That’s not going to work if I’m still asking myself at 11 p.m., “Did I eat yet today?” and seriously not knowing the answer. I have to make paragraphs. And maybe I was meant to be at that auction and hold my hand up too long and get stuck with a room full of odds and ends… creative tools… possibilities.
For several years, I’ve had a business partner at Absolute Write. He (Bob) will now own Absolute Write, and Amy Brozio-Andrews will become the new editor-in-chief.
Amy started as a book reviewer for Absolute Write many years ago. Not only was she a great reviewer and totally reliable, but I grew to really enjoy her as a person. There’s a spark in Amy, and a kindness you can’t miss. She was a librarian, and is mom to two beautiful young girls. She reviews for trade magazines and e-zines, and writes articles and essays. And she’s working on her novel. Slowly.
Charlie Stuart, who’s been my co-administrator on the message boards, will become “the” administrator on the message boards. If you haven’t met Charlie (ChunkyC) yet, go say hi. To give you a clue about Charlie’s personality, he says that if he could be any movie character, he’d be Samwise Gamgee. Charlie is one of my favorite people in the world.
We also have six supermoderators and 33 moderators who have always been the greatest staff a gal could have.
There are things about running a popular site that can break you if you’re not strong spirited. You leave yourself open for criticism, of course, and stalking, and assorted malice and weirdness. What people may not realize is that you already gave me the best send-off I could have wanted.
All that stuff was getting me down a couple of months ago. I talked about it a bit on the boards, and the response I received made me feel like I was in a movie scene… like in a town hall meeting where, one by one, everyone in town stands up and bolsters the person who’s in trouble. Even the lurkers wrote to me with words of support and caring.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt more validated as a person than I have around here lately. The number of letters I get saying, “Thank you for saving me from getting taken by a scammer” has grown by epic proportions. The letters I get to tell me that I did something right—that I mattered—have made me glow. I’ve always wanted to matter. I suppose that’s why I write.
People don’t get to hear what’s said at their own funerals. I feel like I just did… in a way. On my computer screen, I got to read intensely thoughtful letters and posts that I couldn’t believe were about me. I had to pinch myself a few times and briefly did wonder if I was dying and God was letting me go out on a high note, to make up for all those practical jokes He’s played on my life.
But, no, I think my health is fine. Nonetheless, this part isn’t easy. Absolute Write has been a major chunk of my life for about seven years. It’s been my community, the place where I fit in. The place where I watched a lot of other people find “home base,” too.
I’m probably going to feel like something’s missing for a long time, and wonder if I did the right thing. But I couldn’t leave my “baby” in better hands… Amy, Charlie, and the mod squad are wonderful people, with real dedication to writers.
I could wax poetic about the site, the people behind it, and the effect it’s had on my life for several more pages… but I think you might want to read the rest of the issue. So I’ll aim to finish my thoughts in the coming days and weeks on my blog: http://jennaglatzer.blogspot.com/ (http://jennaglatzer.blogspot.com/) . If you’re interested, please join me over there.
So with that, it’s time for me to go. It has been an honor and a pleasure to hang out in your inbox every week. I thank you for making me feel like I accomplished something great with Absolute Write, and I sincerely hope our paths cross again.
Sending you love and wishes for bigger writing success than you dreamed possible.
I’m really going to miss you.
Write on,
Jenna Glatzer
http://www.jennaglatzer.com (http://www.jennaglatzer.com/)