Trouble Is.

Well, I just did some math on this editing thing. And I think I might be in trouble.

In two days (only a couple hours each day), I cut 45 words in 5 pages. Roughly 5.5 words a page. To me, I’m thinking, Not bad. You should know that the page margins I’m using are HUGE, so when it's printed it looks like it would if... well, never mind what it looks like.

Anyway I’m feeling like this whole diet-to-10k thing is attainable. 5.5 words a page, I can do this! So taking the per-page-figure, I multiply it by the number of pages, 27, all the while thinking about how cool it’s going to be winning 5 dimes, and say I was published in the Chicago Tribune.

148.5

Excuse me? What? Something’s wrong. That’s it? Maybe I multiplied incorrectly, or accidentally hit the decimal point button. I need to shed 1,650 words. So I punched in the numbers again, this time slower, and... the same number came up.

Fine. I decided to figure it backwards, and divided 1650 by 27. This will tell me exactly what I’m looking at. Boy did it.

61 words per page.

Oh, this is trouble. I’m not looking at strengthening sentences with fewer words here. Oh no, we’re talking about mass-exodus of entire scenes! Very Un-Cool.

So... I was thinking, maybe this Award thing in the Chicago Tribune and Five Grand isn’t really my “bag.” You know? Maybe by doing this, I’m selling out. Yeah, that’s it. I’m selling out as an artist if I change that much.

And all for what? A measly five grand, and getting published in the Chicago Tribune? Puh-leeze! Who's Nelson Whatshisname anyway?


On an unrelated note: I’m, like, busy for the next two months, uh... doin’ stuff. Yeah. Doin’ stuff.

Sad Remains

Ever miss things? Like work? Ever miss work? I know, you’re thinking I’m crackers. But I do. I miss it.

Yes, I am employed right now. I have a job, and am well-paid. But it’s not what I was doing before. For twelve years I was in fire protection. Started right out of high school and earned my way to become an engineer. And I was one too. Nine of those twelve, I was an engineer.

My first three years I spent learning the trade, project management, teamwork, and got certified. The next two years I broke away to begin and establish an entire design department for another company, implementing new software and building it from the ground up. At the age of twenty-three, I branched off into freelance design, trying my hand at self-employment, before landing at a multi-million dollar firm as one of their top designers.

By twenty-eight I’d become a branch senior designer, mentoring, observing, and training incoming designers, all the while independently managing large-scale projects, deadlines and coordination on my own. I learned volumes of fire prevention code, CAD, calculations, shortcuts, you name it.

Then, in five quick minutes, I was ushered into a conference room, handed a packet and given a “pat” explanation that it was a tough decision, but my employment had been terminated.

Fired. Me, their senior designer, gone in what they called a “Reduction in Workforce.” My office keys were taken, and I was informed by day’s end I had to be out. And I wasn’t alone.

That branch lost their two top designers, losing some combined twenty years of trade knowledge and fifteen years with the company (twelve and seven of them mine respectively) to the design trainee that had been under my wing, and another having four years experience. They would be running the department under the design manager, the very man responsible for selecting my termination.

This is the first time I've ever really written, or for that matter, spoke about it in detail. Sure, I'd talked to lots of friends, told them my feelings, transparently expressed myself. But I never (really) told anyone about the hard look on the inside. No one except Lisa. So why am I now? Good question. Maybe it's just time.

A week after, I swam out of the depression. My work was something I enjoyed, and it was gone.

Some weeks following, I managed to get my feet under myself and started searching for work again. By then, unemployment checks begun to arrive. I took a shot at several engineering firms, selling myself hard to open a fire protection division, but no one was biting. Then I discovered I had a shot to interview for an open city Fire Protection Plan Reviewer. Only I had missed the deadline by two days.

Two days. I pleaded to submit my resume. But the secretary informed me there were no exceptions. What's worse is that I’d have gotten it.

Then, six months ago, my brother-in-law happened to be talking to a friend—someone incidentally looking to hire a designer who knew CAD. My name came up, and I interviewed for the position.

It’s good work. The pay is great and the work environment is amazing, something I’ve never seen. But the work isn’t the same. Here I no longer engineer, instead I sit before this very computer screen and layout piping designs for a multi-billion dollar petrochemical company. I’m onsite at one of the plants, and design layouts for that specific site.

That’s it.

There’s no submittal process. No calculations. There’s no meeting with local authorities. No project management. No creation. No nothing. Just me. Engineers come in, tell me what they’re after, ask if I can do that, and have me draw up a route for their 18” diameter pipe through a crisscross maze of other pipes, towers, reactors, and storage drums.

That’s it.

I miss fire protection. I miss what I had established. I miss what I was doing. Here, all that stuff means nothing. It’s as if I’ve started all over again. No vacations, no benefits, no pension, nothing.

It’s almost as if I’ve stepped into some kind of suspension, and am hanging here, almost as if it’s a dream. It all feels fake. That, maybe this isn’t real. The people here are wonderful, and fun. The environment here is unbelievable, as I said. Plus I’m well compensated.

But I look back at the last twelve years of my life and think, is this it? Here I can't see a “future”, only more engineers and more piping layouts. No plan review. No consulting. No anything I used to do.

My certifications expire in another year, after which I’ll have to retest from entry level, like I had twelve years ago. Is this what I want? Is this how I want to work the next thirty some years, until retirement?

It just doesn’t feel like me.

Ambition or...well...not?

So this morning I was wandering around the web a bit, perusing submissions in general when I stumbled upon something. “The Nelson Algren Award.” Ever heard of it? Me either. So I had a closer look.

Evidently it’s a short story contest in honor of, you guessed it, novelist Nelson Algren, author of “The Man with the Golden Arm,” a story about drug addiction that was later made into a 1955 film. Almost immediately I noticed the “payout.” Wow. Five grand awarded to the winner and twelve hundred to each runner-up. Not bad. Plus, the winning stories will be published in The Chicago Tribune.

So I’m thinking, Hey, I’ve got one... when it occurs to me: the word count. What was the word count? Specified right in the next paragraph. 10,000 words maximum. Mine’s twelve. Which means, I’d have to edit again. And I am soo done doing that!

But really, most editors are after short stories that cap-off around 10k. So why not give it a run thru and cut a few words? Seriously. What could that hurt? It’d probably take a week at best. And I could submit again... back on the wagon, or off... however that goes.

My wife though, she’s the sensible one of us. She's one of few who "get" me. I’m more of an ambitious and spontaneous type that, when combined, make my endeavors end up either outright astounding, or utterly disappointing. But that's just me. I tend to think of it like bi-polar-ism: the good is phenomenal, and the bad is disastrous.

Anyway, I hinted to her about submitting into the contest. (Okay, I flat out told her I wanted to do it.) And she had something to say about it too, but I didn’t listen. I sort of plugged my ears and hummed. She’s probably right though, but I’m more focused on the fact that, sometimes, first-time authors do land that Big Break.

So I have to try.

Winners will be notified by August 2006. So when Sept. 9 rolls around and my P.O. Box is still dusty, I’ll know Lisa was right. First things first though, I need to read all the “Rules” and see if it's really something I want to do. Responsibility, sheesh...

Legacy

Why is waiting so difficult?

Is it because we’ve been raised on a culture of instant gratification? You need fuel, go to the nearest corner. Food... hit a fast-food joint. Haven’t spoken to a friend in years, email them, text message them, IM them... from the palm of you hand! Everything is available 24/7.

Has it changed us? Is patience eroding?

In the days before NEXTEL, you caught up with people at home. Not the movies, the mall, or wherever. Not unless you actually saw them there. You’d let the telephone ring fifteen, maybe twenty times to give someone outside the chance to answer it. These days, the concept of a "pen pal" has new meaning. You email someone on the other side of the earth and they email back within minutes. Before, it took months to reply.

We stand in grocery lines, exasperated if someone writes a check. All because it "takes too long". We're more interested to get on with what we’re doing. Some shoppers spend more time seeking The Shortest Line than if they’d just picked one and waited. Waiting? You've got to be kidding right? Nope. Imagine that.

Horns honk if someone isn't speeding in the passing lane. Drivers recklessly tailgate one another.

Is this the legacy we want to hand our children?

That life isn’t worth waiting for?

The Bright Side

Just wanted to share a Top Ten List...

ADHD does have its upside. As listed in a recent edition of ADDitudes, an on-line magazine for people with ADHD, there are at least 10 benefits to ADHD:

1. Boundless energy and enthusiasm
People with ADHD frequently have the energy and stamina to persist with sports and other demanding activities without slowing down or losing strength.

2. Innovative thinking
People with ADHD, who often feel less bound by rules and tried procedures, frequently are able to "think out of the box" and come up with inventive solutions. Albert Einstein is thought to have had ADHD.

3. Curiosity
People with ADHD frequently are more curious than others. Their tendency and ability to hyperfocus impels them to ferret out information and details in a wide variety of areas.

4. Emotional intuition
People with ADHD feel their emotions strongly and often have an uncanny ability to be "in touch" with their emotions, as well as the emotions of others.

5. Great memory for minute details
While most of us tend to remember the big picture and forget the details, people with ADHD are just the opposite. Their exceptional recall for details makes them an asset on team projects.

6. Acceptance and forgiveness of others
Perhaps because of their own trying social experiences, people with ADHD tend to be more accepting of others' foibles and more forgiving of others' mistakes.

7. Embracing risk and change
People with ADHD are often more willing to take risks to achieve their goals. They are unafraid of change and enjoy the challenge of adapting to new ways of doing things.

8. Persistence
People with ADHD bounce back more quickly, and more often, than most other people. When confronted with negative feedback or failure, they are more likely to persist in overcoming obstacles and criticisms.

9. Sociability
Their energy, creativity, and love of excitement is a tremendous social asset. People with ADHD often find themselves motivating and energizing large groups of friends and co-workers.

10. Creativity
Many people with ADHD are exceptionally creative and productive visual artists, performers, composers, and writers. Beethoven and Mozart are both believed to have had ADHD.


And here's a quote from Thom Hartmann, an expert on ADHD disorder:

People with ADHD “may instead be our most creative individuals, our most extraordinary thinkers, our most brilliant inventors and pioneers,” writes Hartmann in his 2003 book The Edison Gene: ADHD and the Gift of the Hunter Child.

He posits that the people with ADHD may carry genetically coded abilities that once were, and may still be, necessary for human survival and that contribute richness to the culture.

(Stay tuned: I’ve had some time to knob-tweak the Mesa..., or as I’m calling it, Ares)