Orson Scott Card Sent Me "Ender's Shadow"

Watch me do my victory dance. Or happy dance. Whatever.

A few days ago I blogged about a new favorite book of mine, Ender's Game. I also mentioned how I had sent an e-mail to my friend Ed (he of yesterday's Bizarro-public speaking episode) with the subject line, "Curses On You." Ed was the one to give me the book and is the editor for Card's hugely popular online magazine, Intergalactic Medicine Show.

It was kind of a cute e-mail as I made a list of what I was supposed to do in the morning and then what I did: Read Ender's Game. What I was supposed to do in the afternoon and what I did: Read Ender's Game. Etc.

Without my knowledge, Ed forwarded the e-mail to Card, and Card turned around and sent me a SIGNED HARDBACK COPY of Ender's Shadow. Whoo-hoo! This is a big deal because:

1) I love books

2) I love signed books

3) It was such an unexpected surprise. I opened my mail and almost fell off the chair. On the title page in blue ink are printed the words: "To Dena Harris: In the dark, where do shadows go?" And then (apologies, Mr. Card) an almost entirely unlegible but page consuming signature.

Right now I'm reading the next book in the series which is Speaker For The Dead. But after that, I'll read my beautiful signed book.

One day, I'd like to be a big name author who spreads joy throughout the Universe by mailing signed copies of my book to unsuspecting fans. Right now, most of my books are to be found in the mass of bathroom reading material beside people's toilets.

"Don't be offended," friends say when I visit their home and find my book wedged between last Sunday's sports section and some book by Martha Stewart on home decor in the basket that also contains the extra rolls of toilet paper.

I'm not offended at all. At least it's being read. Baby steps... b-a-b-y steps.

Bizarre-O Happenings in the Public Speaking World

I keep listening for the Twilight Zone music in the background. Had a BIZARRE speaking experience this morning.

About two weeks ago I was contacted by a new communications instructor at a community college. I'd been recommended to her as a speaker and she knew I was a writer and wanted me to speak to her class about how their coursework is applied in the workplace. I assumed it was a writing or general communications class, which was my first mistake. Assume nothing, ever! But we agreed that I--along with my friend and fellow scribe Ed--would speak to her class from 10-12 today.

Ed and I were running a few minutes late.  We raced up to the stairs to the classroom at 10:05. As we approached the room, the door was closed and we peeked in to find the students bent over a paper at their desk.

"Hold on," I said, digging in my bag. "That looks like they're taking a test. Let me make sure I have the right room."

I did, so we knocked and went in. The instructor didn't look surprised to see us, but we were surprised when she announced that the test they had been getting ready to take would be put off to listen to the guest speakers.

Test? Aren't most tests planned? Why was there a test on the day we're scheduled to speak for two hours?

Ed nudged me and nodded his head toward the front of the room where an overhead proclaimed "Public Speaking Is An Art."

"That's probably just a side topic," I whispered. We were led to the front of the room where we were again surprised to find ourselves introduced as two speakers that would attest to the importance of public speaking in the business world.

Um...what? We came prepared to talk about writing and finding writing opportunities, and magazines and books and pay schedules and expectations, etc. Thankfully, Ed and I both think fast on our feet and we switched gears and talked about how much we use public speaking in our careers as authors and then backtracked to former careers and talked about how we used speaking/writing skills then as well.

Meanwhile, I get the feeling this instructor is trying to politely bring our session to a close as she inches closer and closer to us. The upshot was that we went in to teach a 2-hour writing course and ended up with 30 minutes on public speaking.

Ed and I walked out of the building. "What was that?" he exclaimed.

"I have no idea," I said. "I can show you the e-mails that confirmed the day and time we were to speak. There was no mention made of any public speaking class or talking about public speaking."

There's a bit of not following my gut here. Yesterday and even this morning I kept expecting to see an e-mail arrive from the instructor, reminding me of the class or just one of those, "Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow!" reminders. I always send those out to people I have scheduled to speak. But, nothing. I thought about e-mailing her to confirm I'd be there but decided, "Not necessary."  Another reminder to always follow your gut.

It was just a weird experience. We felt awkward for interrupting their exam and it didn't seem like they were expecting us. But on the other hand, I almost feel an apology is due us. Ed drove almost 90 minutes to meet me for the class. We both interrupted our mornings--and our work--for it. I agree with Ed--What WAS that???

I'll take it as a lesson to do a better job confirming what topic I'll be speaking on and for what purpose. Meanwhile... the experience did at least draw me out of my bad mood from this morning. Always look for the positive.

Grumpy Frumpy

I'm in a bad mood.

My hair is too short and too dark. My clothes look old and worn. My face looks tired. The projects I'm working on don't interest me and I'm speaking today so I'm dressed up, when all I want are my jeans and a t-shirt. The cats are getting on my nerves and I ate the last of the banana's yesterday and now have to eat oatmeal for breakfast.

The computer sounds like it's overheating and is making a loud noise and my toenail polish is chipped. My eyes itch from allergies and the grass outside needs cut.  Nothing feels right, looks right, tastes right, is right.

This too, shall pass. But ever had one of those days?

Fooling Everyone

So at what point in life do you feel like a grown-up?

A friend and I had a discussion centered on this the other day. This friend is a Director at an agency and we were talking about her workday. "If anyone had the slightest idea how I spend my day, I'm sure I'd be fired," she said.

It's not that she doesn't work hard. It's just that--like so many of us--she feels like she's "playing" grownup at work. "I ask for tens of thousands of dollars for a promotional event and they give it to me!" she says, amazed.  "Thank God the event turned out to be a success. One of these days I feel like they're going to catch on that I'm just making this stuff up as I go."

And this is a person who is very successful and admired in her field.

I haven't met a person yet who doesn't feel that way at some point in their career.  We just hope no one clues in to the fact that we still feel like a teenager in (ack--how did this happen??) a middle-aged adults body.

I feel that way about my friends with kids. I visit them and think, "Hey--look at that. They found a 7-year-old somewhere and let him hang around the house. How sweet." Perhaps more disturbing is the parents feel the same. "Sometimes we just look at them and our life and think, 'How in the WORLD...?', said friends of mine recently with several children.

I remember when I was young, I thought all grown-ups were all sure of themselves and knew exactly what they were doing. HA! Yet it's a useful illusion. No point in scaring the pants off a bunch of 5-year-olds with the knowledge that we're all just winging it here.