An Average Joan's Adventures into the Creative World of Possibilities...

The Best Laid Plans of Weekends Past

I always have the best intentions for the weekend.  Come Friday around 4 o'clock, I start outlining my writing goals for the weekend.  Of course, I don't figure family obligations into the equation.  Well, I do... but not in a realistic, stuff happens kind of way.  

Writing down my weekend goals helps me keep in the forefront what I want to accomplish in the upcoming weeks, even if I miss the mark completely now and then.  This was one of those weekends. 

Okay, so I didn't write my Cliffhanger Friday outline for Monday's Y&R as planned, but I know in my head what direction I'm taking.  That's half the battle right there.  

I'm one of those Average Joans who works well under pressure.  I guess it's the thrill of looking at that blank screen and knowing you only have a few hours to fill it up with something that'll knock your clients' socks off or yours.

Not to worry, I'll have a rough outline and a few acts of dialogue written by the time I screen the show on Monday on the Web.  

Then there are the weekends I morph into a hermit at my desk and bang out the creative work -- letting cleaning the bathroom, washing the kitchen floor and organizing my cluttered closet... fall by the waist side.  Of course, I'm up until the wee hours, cleaning the bathroom and washing the kitchen floor and organizing the closet on Monday.

It all seems to balance out.  Scribes... I guess what I'm saying is... learn from the unrealistic goals of weekends past and focus on one goal you're pretty sure you can accomplish within your daily life's demands. 

Don't be embarrass to brainstorm on a Wendy's napkin.  Just don't get chili stains on it and then can't read what you wrote.  Been there... done that.  Or better yet, keep a notebook with you at all times, so you can jot down ideas or write a premise, or synopsis.  I keep one with me half the time.  Some days I'm still scrambling for that restaurant napkin.  That's just what we Average Joans do. 

Miraculously, I found time to do an hour or two of grant research for a few clients.  And guess what... I found a funding opportunity for myself that'll help me upgrade around here.  Sweet!

(Apple MacBook Pro - iCafe Woman Moderne Store)

I also dropped by the library and found the latest America's Book Review - BookPage.  So I curled up in my canopy bed before bedtime, last night, with a hot cup of sweet herbal tea and cream and thumbed through the pages.  Yes, on a Saturday night... what can I say, I love my books. 

Don't you get excited reading about new book releases?  To be honest, I'm both excited and a little melancholy.  Why melancholy?  Because I don't see my name and book title in it yet.  But it will be.  I live on faith, and faith will see me through to that day I'm holding and kissing mine.  Here's to that day! 

One debut novel really caught my eye:  Baking Cakes in Kigali, By Gaile Parkin.  Parkin's characters enter the story through vignettes when they visit Cake Baker Angel Tungaraza's apartment to order a cake for a celebration. 

cake

Reviewed by Carla Jean Whitley -- a writer and baker from Birmingham, Alabama -- she explains how the residents of Kgali, Rwanda's capital, turn to Tanzania transplant and baker Angel for baked sweets.  Their lives intertwine with each cake baked.

And with each celebration, there are stories of survival over the horrific Genocide and AIDS that plague Rwanda.   

"Angel  serves as a mother of the bride for Shopkeeper Leocadie's wedding, and when sex worker Jeanne d'Arc comes to her to order a cake for her sister's confirmation, Angel offers the girl her grandchild's confirmation gown, writes Whitley."

"Gaile Parkin's Baking Cakes in Kigali reveals a hope and joy not often associated with Rwanda."  Parkins, a Zambia native did relief work in Rwanda.

I can't wait to read it.  Hollywood would be crazy not to snatch up this story.  I wish I could option and co-write the screenplay with Gaile Parkins.

The best laid plans always have the best surprises.

What are your best laid plans?

Also, check out:  iCafe Woman Moderne - an intergenerational virtual cafe for women. 

Miracles and Blessings! 
  

"But did'nt I tell you that you will see a wonderful miracle from God if you believe?"
John 11:40

Juggling between writing spec scripts for daytime television and animation, editing a family saga (that turned into three books) and my bread and butter work: writing web content, grant proposals and marketing communications including scripts for businesses... yada, yada... remind me of a Ringling Bros. Circus act. 

  Dr. Seuss

Oh, and did I leave out my feature and primetime specs and the children's book I've left dormant too long?  With technology moving in warped speed, it'll definitely need an update. 

Topping the juggling act with teaching praise dance and gospelcise classes round out my creative merry-go-round I like to call life.  Actually, the latter gives me the peace that passes all understanding, no yoga needed here.

And if that's not enough to make me babble to myself, I've started knitting again.  I haven't knitted since sixth grade.  Oh yeah, I've got the knitting bug... big time!  I take my knitting paraphernalia everywhere I go in my little Victoria's Secret shopping bag.  It makes feel like a lady, despite the baseball cap, tee-shirt and sweats I'm sporting.  Hey, the secret is... they're from the Victoria's Pink line so I guess it balances out.

Knitting Cafe

Anyway, it's more like re-knitting.  I'm re-learning the craft.  Thank goodness I'm finally improving, but you can forget about this afghan showing up in anybody's gift bag.  A few gaping holes from an early attempt make it a definite "no way."  It'll look so purty on my bed. 

Mom crocheted and knitted extremely well, she's a hard act to follow. So not only do I have a mountain of writing goals... I have a mole hill of knitting goals as well.  Isn't that dandy.

After I finish the practice one, I'll take off the training wheels and advance to knitting a shawl for a Christmas present.  That's if my purling and knitting make nice. 

My main reason for returning to knitting was to start a knitting ministry. I hope to start knitting preemie caps for pre-born babies in area hospitals.  Don't worry, I've got an easy pattern, at least I will.  I wish my writing projects had patterns to follow.  Wouldn't that be lovely? 

And as my knitting genes kick in, hopefully, not too many months from now, I'll start knitting small purses my mother used to knit for me and my friends.  I still carry my knitted change purse everywhere.

knitted purse


If you haven't guessed it, Average Joans tend to become more sentimental as life rolls by.  I knitted a few things as a child, but I couldn't stay seated long enough to continue knitting through the middle years and high school.  It was the same with sewing.  Now that Mom has passed, I see the importance in bringing her love of knitting and sewing back into my life and into my writing.  Guess what... i love it now.

You better believe I put this sentimentality into my fiction/scriptwriting projects.  It gives them just the right flavor.  
 
Knitting is that chill pill for me.  It's that respite I need between my writing projects.  And Yes, I can leap tall buildings in a single bout... with my handy keyboard. 

Seriously, I'm like, as many of you are, the graphic diva above.  So much stuff keeps floating in this head of mine.  It could use some de-cluttering.  I'll let you know how when I figure it out.

Writing specs for daytime and animation at the same time will show me what I'm really made up. 

Our Creator don't make junk, so it'll be okay.  Staying focused and organized will be the key.  This is why I decided to open the door to my office and welcome in visitors, like you, by writing this cyber-journal.  desk

To give you some quick history, I wrote about ten specs including:  The Young and the Restless, All My Children and One Life to Live.  I was going to add Guiding Light, but unfortunately I heard reports that their light would go out soon.  I'm very sad that it was today.  I'm hoping new soaps will crop up in the near future.  But that may only be a twinkle little star for a while because of the world's economic belt-tightening.

An independent producer friend referred me to a former producer for Y&R, who no longer works in daytime, but was willing to read my script.

That previous year, a writer from one of the soaps was gracious enough to read one of my earlier Y&R scripts.  She read the first 14 pages and said that I captured the characters' voices.  I was thrilled, but that's just half the battle.  There's a thing called structure and foreshadowing to keep you on your toes.

Well, getting back to the producer.  He gave me solid notes for me to rework it.  So this is where I am.  I'll re-write the script from last summer's storyline, but fortunately for me the storyline has a key role in today's cliffhanger.  I plan to finish it by next Friday.  Hold me to it now.

That takes me to the animation side of my writing madness.  Again, it's time to update.  I have specs for shows that are still aired, but no longer in production.

The Young and the Restless 
Sponge Bob's Bikini Bottom

So I'll be enjoying Sponge Bob's crabby patties and Mighty B's HoneyBee obsession, while figuring who got shot in Friday's (9/19) Y&R Cliffhanger?  Does Colleen's spiritual visit to Lily's means she dies?  And how will Ashley find out she lost her baby months ago at the hand of her husband's son?  Yeesh!

I write my outline based on the Cliffhanger Friday show, then write the script from there and compare my version with what I see on the tube.  That's the fun part.

Well, I better get back to work, there's a lot to do!  I've got a few bread and butter assignments to bang out too.  Whew!

Don't you worry, I'll always have time to hear from you, Average Joans or not.  Are you working on your passion or only your necessity?  Hmm.

Miracles and Blessings!  Stay Tuned. 

Lucille Desiree Ball was an
Average Joan who became
I Love Lucy.

Elaine Benes was an Average Joan with a penchant for big salads.

Charles Schultz was an Average Joe
who created a cartoon institution called Peanuts.

Average Joan Cartoon Created by Dee Boyd. - Floating Pear Productions

Charlie Brown and Peanuts Gang


Charlie Brown is an Average Joe (kid version) who loves hanging out  with Lucy, Linus, Schroeder, Franklin, Snoopy, and Peppermint Patty...

Seinfeld Caricature

Rachael Ray is an Average Joan who digs cooking fast with EVOO. YUM-O.

Rachael Ray Show






I'm Joan B. Average and this is my cyber-journal about an Average Joan with a dash of extraordinary, living on the verge of possibilities.   

Wow, I wonder if one of my characters would become a Barbie?  That would be so cool. 

FLASH BACK TO A FEW YEARS AGO:

That's me in beautiful Wailea, Maui at the Maui Writer's Conference. I'm a little camera shy.  I like my clothes to stand in for me.  Isn't that Hawaiian halter dress cute?  Love the rainbow!

Hawaiian Dress


Can you believe it?  John and Florine's youngest striking a literary pose amidst Pulitzer Prize, Oscar  and Emmy Winners.  Can I get a whoo-hoo!  I KNOW! 


It happened because I busted my tushy writing content like "How to Look Ten Pounds Thinner for Under $40" for a cable network's website.  Interviewed authors for a book trade web site, who, for some, are better spinning tales of intrigue on their laptops than answering a reporter's question.

I braved an indecisive dentist and somehow found sparkling copy for a cleaning company and other less glamorous small businesses, and created brochures that sent customers flocking to them.

I earned this conference and dog gone it... I  was going to make things happen, or ache trying.   For once, I was going to be the Star, the Whiz Kid, the It Girl. 

Writers would clamor around me.  Agents would rush to set up a meeting.  Publishers would phone their New York Offices to alert them to the hot manuscript they're sending their way.  A bidding war would begin based on my dazzling pitch alone and all while I was still basking in the Maui sun.


Gloria Estefan's Conga song arrives in my head, I start doing "Da Bump" with a palm tree, (these open-air hotels are fantastic), until I see several stretched pairs of eyes that seem to say, "Are you on medicine?  Oh yeah, like you've never done "da bump" with a palm tree in Hawaii before. 


Oh stop pouring vinegar into my mango smoothy.  A girl can dream.  I sigh happily and fall into step with the other wide-eyed conference attendees. 


Oh look, there's a group of writers from the coveted week-long writing seminar held the week before the conference.  Those lucky duckies were selected for the seminar and worked on their projects at the elbows of pros. They're what we weekend attendees call the Creme-de-la-Creme Circle.  I stared at three of its members. 


They weren't just here for a weekend of workshops, meeting with agents and hobnobbng with authors, journalists, screenwriters and publishers.  Their projects were destined to be on bookstore shelves and movie screens within a few years. 


My heart pounded as I inched closer to the group. 


"Okay, I can do this... one step in front of the other."  I mutter.  "This isn't high school... they're not the popular girls' clique, or the service clubs you tried to join but failed.


This isn't recess and you're not stuck turning the double-dutche ropes with Ditzy Doreen.  You're a grown woman.  You've prayed... you've saved... you are ready to be here.  So put on your big girl panties and march on over there... introduce yourself.  Find out what they know.  Now go!  What are you going to do when it's time to meet the real pros?


"Okay, let's do this thing?"  I say aloud with fake conviction.  My queen of procrastination reign was sure to continue. 
Wait a minute... where's Daniel? (my husband)  He should be here by now dropping off my checkbook.  I was so excited this morning, I left my checkbook on our condo's kitchen island.  I needed to pay for my ten-minute pitch meetings with the pros and they weren't cheap.


Our plan was to meet at the registration table I just past.  I glanced toward the Creme-de-la-Creme like a kid staring at a row of new bikes with "Free" signs on them. 


Well, at least the three women were sitting in front of the main conference hall, not far from our planned meeting spot.  He'll find me there, I decided.  Okay, take a deep breath and go.  This is your destiny... go get it! 

Suddenly, I hear the sound of cars skidding to a stop in my head.  "What the..."  My mouth pops open when two men move, revealing  a fourth person to the group -- a man...  my husband, Daniel! 


There he was leaning toward the three women as if they shared a big secret.  They laughed when he laughed.  He's not that funny.  (okay, yes he is.)  They're glued to his every word.  What's up with that?  They're not tuning him out like I often do. 


This man whom I've never seen pick up a novel, well along read one in our 14 years together was sitting in my seat.  He was talking to my coveted writer's circle.  He had entered the Creme-de-la-Creme Writer's Circle and HE WAS NOT EVEN A WRITER.

Did a coconut conk me on the head while I was doing "Da Bump" with that palm tree? Did I fall into Seinfeld's  Bizarro world? 

 I head over there with the quickness.  Danel smiles when he sees me and waves me over.   I can't miss his sly grin and that "SEE I TOLD YOU I'D FIT IN" wink.

Palm Tree

Why wouldn't he?  He's the popular kid, the high school jock.  He grew up as part of the "beautiful people"  in a known snooty area of our city.  He even went to prep school for goodness sake.  OF COURSE HE'S SITTING WITH MY WRITERS' GROUP.


He introduces me.  I stutter my pleasure in meeting them.  Two respond with a yawn and the other, a glazed-over look.  All seem annoyed that I interrupted their chat. 

After their perfunctory pleasantries, they return to their conversation with my husband,THE NON-WRITER and totally diss me.  I feel like a cat watching the world perched at a window.


Since Daniel's bed pillow sits next to mine, he tries to bring me into the fold, but it's not happening.  Even he, the man I share my life with, can't help me out.  Did they just invite him to lunch and not me? 


 He can't help but snicker since we both know he has no intention of lunching with them.  He's going snorkeling with our cousins.  SO TAKE THAT SNOOTY FUTURE OPRAH BOOK CLUB STARS.  He suggests that I take his place.  You would have thought he called them fat and frumpy.    No way will I go to lunch with these stuck-up heifers. 


So how come I hear myself saying, "where should I meet you?" 


The pixie haircut one mumbles something incoherent.  Thankfully my husband speaks snob, but doesn't live it.  He kisses me goodbye, tells me to knock them dead.  I'd like to knock something al right.  His grinning face.


 "Knock-em dead?"  I reply.  "You mean like you already have?" 


He laughs and squeezes my arm, then vanishes in the crowd.


I STAND THERE SHOCKED BY WHAT JUST HAPPENED.  Even he, the non-writer was a star at my writer's conference. 

Fussing all the way to a nearby coffee station, I drink a cup of Kona Blend, pouring in extra cream and sugar.  I deserved it.  I could use a DQ Peanut Buster right about now.  My first few sips has the desired effect and calms me.  I hear the first speaker's voice  boom through the PA system and drain the cup.  My doubts and fears return for an encore appearance.  coffee - flickr.com


I'm an imposter.  What was I thinking?  I don't belong here.  I'm just an Average Joan with a notion.  Maybe if I hurry I can catch my husband and swim with the sea turtles. 



I turn to leave, but stop suddenly.  (I wasn't really leaving.  I paid a lot of money to attend.) Is that...?  I couldn't have picked a better moment to see an old childhood friend.   On a neaby chair was Charlie Brown living his life in a Peanuts comic strip. 


He was this average kid who had an extraordinary impact on the world.  He and his pals with their average personalities entertained generations of children and I'm sure will continue for years to come. 

Charlie Brown

I swipe away my tears and dive into the above strip where Charlie plans a picnic on the phone.  Snoopy listens as he tells the person that they'll let people bring what they feel is necessary.  Snoopy comes up behind him with his dog bowl.  I feel like Snoopy at this conference.


 I head for the applause in the banquet hall, and for a moment imagine that the applause is for me as I skip to the podium to receive my Oscar for the Best Adaptation Category, for a script adapted from a novel, a Joan B. Average novel.  


I enter the room smiling.  Why not?  I'm Joan B. Average (B stands for Blessed) with a dash of the extraordinary, just enough to imagine my novel, a family saga, developing into a popular television series.  Samantha Who?  pops into my head.  And that one of my scripts or another novel could win me a nomination seat at the Oscars. 

"Expect the best and you'll get the best, expect little and you'll receive little."  A pastor's recent sermon echoes in my ears.  "Speak things as though it is so, walk and work in faith within His will and they will come into fruition." 

 little black dress

"Excuse me," a perky brunette says, crashing my land of Oz, and returning me to the Meet and Greet Cocktail Party that evening.  I recognized her from my conference brochure, she's Sally Super Agent.  Wow, she's smiling at me.  A top agent is smiling at me.  Wait... she's not smiling at me.  She's smiling at the colossal shrimp chilling on a block of ice I'm blocking her from getting. 


It's now or never.  Stop looking like a crazy girl and network.


"Hi... I'm Joan B. Average."  


I watch her drop a clump after clump of shrimp onto her plate without uttering a word.  Aren't you the little piggy, I dare not say. 


"I'm Joan B. Average, I repeat a little louder, sounding more like Minnie Mouse's twin Penny. 


Sally Super Agent cranks her head around me, then faces me with a look of annoyance. 


" I'm Sally Super Agent... and you are?"  It didn't matter that I've said my name twice and wore a name badge.  I look down.  My name badge is on backwards.  Nice.


"Joan B. Average."  I cheerfully extend my hand.  She puts a plate in it.  


"Oh thank you."  She walks around me.  This time I'm blocking the bowl of cocktail sauce and lemon wedges.  She drops lemon wedges and cocktail sauce on my plate.   A lemon wedge splatters cocktail sauce on my chin and new Hawaiian dress.  More cocktail sauce land on my sandals.  After piling both plates with shrimp, she snatches the one I'm holding and leaves.


"Thanks Jan... nice meeting you."


That quick, she's gone, but not before Courtney, Star Scribe intercepts her and carries her second plate.  She says her name only once.  "Courtney, Star Scribe... it's nice to meet you.

So there they are, Sally Super Agent chatting away between shrimp bites to Courtney Star...  a Warner Brothers Fellow, Yale grad, head of this, awarded that, excelled at this and broke the record at that.  

Average Joan has left the building, just for a bit.


Average Joans aren't the life of the party.

We win the internships no-one want.
We become the flag girl instead of the majorette.
We get the responsible project, not the creative one at the job.

And we're misunderstood and underestimated. 
We tend to fall into a box wrapped with a nice bow.  Just when we vanish from everyone's minds, we break out, change it into a  platform and turn that ribbon into a crown. No, not to put on our heads.  Please... we don't like that kind of attention.  We crown that passion pie with a ribbon of whipped cream and let everyone enjoy a slice.

Julie & Julia

Join this average joan's adventures into the creative world of possibilities.  I'll take the average and hopefully transform it into something extraordinary.  Look at Julie and Julia, the book about the bored temp who decided to do something extraordinary with a Julia Child cookbook. 

Or look at Seinfeld, a show about nothing that became a Hollywood treasure.  Four average friends, so nothing to write home about, but they still keep us laughing every night at 7:30 EST.



seinfeld

Average Joans sneak up on you, then go to town.  Come along for the ride.  We may hit some bumps, run out of gas and miss a shortcut or two -- all before reaching the promised land, a staff writer position on a television show and a book contract, a year from now, September 17, 2010.  That's just the top of my Writing To-Do-List.   I hope to check all or half off by that date. 


Even if I only achieve one, you'll hear my screams of joy.


Stay Tuned!

Are you an Average Joan?  I'd like to hear about your passion.  Do you have a year career goal?  How are you getting to your destiny?

Aloha!

God Bless!