3.2.02...Yup! I am here. All alone. In the storm. The whole city has shut down. I am nuts
Well, guess what? Today, I have that life! It's not at the local diner, or on a neighbor's front porch, but here at the bookstore. Friends pop in and I am so lucky to be able to sit and visit. They don't mind minor interruptions like the phone, or deliveries, and sometimes, customers even sit and join in on the conversations. We have been here five years, maybe it's six - doesn't really matter. I have become one of the neighbors. I get invited to neighborhood parties, have celebrated birthdays with neighbors' grandchildren, get reports on what and how kids are doing in school. People share their successes and, occasionally, their disappointments. We have welcomed new babies. One new mom even stopped in with her newborn on their way home from the hospital. Really! We have pictures of our "store babies" hanging all over! Our biggest thrill is when one of those babies walks up to the counter on his/her own wobbly two feet, chest proudly puffed, wearing that look-at-me-grin. Generally, the first store related word they utter is 'Candy".
I put together a committee to write the musical, two tweeners (those are short little pieces) and the musical finale for the show. Our first meeting was a brainstormer...we decided what we wanted to do with each of the segments we were assigned. We made an outline for the musical and decided what characters would be in it, and what songs we would use.
Now, the slow work begins. Last Thursday we met and started writing dialogue for the musical. After two hours we only had two pages and one song done. I like our group. We have Connie, Karen, Chris, and me. There is always plenty of red licorice, which seems to appear at all HAR meetings. For us, it eases the pain of the grand silence. And believe me, there was plenty of that at our first two meetings. We try to pitch ideas as fast as they come to us, and some are just dogs. They totally stink up the process. When someone tosses a really stupid idea out, everyone else gets quiet. Eyes grow big as we silently check to see who is in agreement. This lasts a looong time. Painfully long, if it your idea getting the treatment. Normally, this disolves into laughter...starting with one of those sputtering laughs, the kind we all try to hold back. But that crazy laughter must trigger endorphins or something. Between the snorts, guffaws and giggles, we start to piggyback on the idea that started the ruckus. Those stink-o ideas sometimes lead us to pretty funny places.
We meet again tomorrow...two more pages, perhaps! The working title for the musical is "Give Peas a chance." (Yes, you read correctly, it's peas, not peace.)