What's Up?

What's up?
Me!

I woke up feeling happy, and so energetic I washed the shower curtain––and the bathroom walls. 
Not everyday normal.

I often feel this way in this season, like the astrological sign we've just entered: leapy Leo, the sunshine sign. Abundance! Amber waves of grain. Fruited plains are ripening, here in the US-of-A. 

(Fruity-toon politics too, but I'm not going to go into that, beyond saying that we have a president candidate whose personality matches his hair color, Papaya Whip.) 

Consolation? or Desolation?

I'm also feeling energized because I'm proud of how I handled the contract negotiations. To begin with, I'm simply proud I asked for more, which jangles my nerves.

[I kept telling myself, "What you feel is excitement. This is an adventure," which actually helped me get through the anxiety of waiting and conflict.]

I'm proud I walked away from what felt like an insulting offer.
And now I'm proud I'm willing to reconsider.

What happened was, after I'd blogged about it three days ago, I did indeed turn down My Publisher's offer and pulled my proposal for the fandom book.

A senior pro then stepped in, wrote me a diplomatic email explaining This and That [including pointing out–– without shaming me–– that my facts were wrong in one matter I had stamped my feet about], tweaking their offer a little bit (they will, after all, provide comp copies for my interviewees--yes!), and politely asking if I might reconsider?

My brain was flooded with annoyance, I knew I'd need time; I said I'd reconsider and let them know this coming week.

I tell ya. 
Numbers count, yeah, but the feel of human interactions count more for me:
Does this offer make me hum zip a dee doo dah? 
or does it feel like condemnation to a dirty, windowless room?

This second negotiator treated me like a smart human being instead of something to be milked, and that makes a huge difference.

I think of other times I've raised serious issues at a workplace-- 
most recently, the Memory Care unit where I led activities, and the Thrift Store where I volunteered.
In both cases, I pushed against a wall, asking for more resources (pay! pop!), but no magic door opened---the wall just tightened up.

What if, instead, there'd been a little creative softness in the managements' reply...? Or if I'd been willing and able to hang in there. (Though as it turned out, I'm glad I quit both places, I can imagine it differently.)

This time a door opened. I'm going to sit next to it until I know how I want to proceed.
I'll probably accept the publisher's offer ––not because it's the best deal ever, but because I know myself:
much as I love the romantic image of genius me working away in my garrett, fanning my creative flames, the truth is, I am like water that seeks the easiest path:
I am much more likely to become a puddle on the floor.

I work better to assignment, and I doubt I'd write this book on my own--especially because I've already spent five months exploring the topic and have used up much of my enthusiasm to keep working hard on it.

Too Wet to Obsess

Actually, that's not true that I always work better to a deadline.

I work best when I'm in love---I never created more or better than when I was blogging and vidding about Star Trek, 
and I kick myself when I remember that back then, I actually stopped myself from writing more because I thought I was overdoing it... [????]

Whose stupid voice was that?
Not mine. It's definitely an illegal alien.
I hear it every so often:
just last month an acquaintance told me I had problems with obsession. They gave as an example, "You used to blog all the time."

Used to?
Break my heart. My "problem with obsession" is that I talk myself out of it.
I wish I'd always protected and harnessed my obsessions--(which mostly have only been passionate interests)--instead of letting them get damp, like firecrackers stored in a basement.

Um, so, I think it would be good to type up all my fandom research into a book, and then do something else. 

Meanwhile, I have yet to stitch Red Bear a summer dress as planned!
That's my project for the weekend.