Details, Details

A lot, apparently.

Especially when it comes to characters in my novels.

I've known for a while that it's important for me to feel like the name matches the character. And I think I knew that sometimes character grows a bit out of the name.

But this evening, I think I figured out why I was feeling like a novel I wrote last spring just wasn't working.

It's the name of the main character. It somehow gave the narrative a certain flavor that didn't feel like my own, and made the character's personality different from what i wanted.

Which means that, when I eventually try to rewrite it, I will be giving the main character a slightly different name - and I can already feel him morphing in my head as I consider the possibilities. The difference between Elvin (the current name) and, say, Alfie (one of the possibilities) is huge. (Also considering Elvis, and a few others. And definitely open to suggestions, though it's not urgent. Currently working on the novel from a year ago November, in which all of the names are just fine.)

As an aside, by way of explanation, I needed his name to sound a bit like Elephant, and the day after I got the idea, a student named Elvin walked into a room where i was working in one of my schools. It sounded perfect. But now, I am realizing it may be far from it.

Anyway, it won't be the first time I've changed a name after at least part of a project is written. (Even changing Hayley to Hailey made a difference), but it's the first time I've realized a name might be a major reason a novel isn't working the way I want it to. 

So I was in my building's wifi lounge today to get some writing done, and there was a guy teaching a martial arts form to someone, so I went to ask the building manager what the policy was on that.

After she gave me the answer (they had asked permission and were given a conditional yes - which is to say, I was allowed to kick them out if I wanted to), she told me that the building is probably going to be restricting the wifi lounge hours.

Why?

Because people in the building have been using it in inappropriate ways and trashing it.

The last straw? Simchat Torah night.

Apparently, the usual doorman called in sick - the one who is so good at locking down the building and keeping back the worst of the partiers.

But they shouldn't need to lock down the building. They shouldn't need to close the door to the stairwell and tell people they have to be residents to go up the stairs when they let any Jew up those stairs on a regular Shabbat. They shouldn't need to call the cops, which they did last year, and which they had cause to - but didn't because the doorman didn't think to - this year. They shouldn't be told, "no," when they ask partying guests to leave the wifi lounge because it is an inappropriate use of the space. (That was when they should have called the cops.)

Jews should not be causing chaos in my building - or any other - on Simchat Torah.

I felt embarrassed that the damage to the lounge had been caused by other Jews. I felt embarrassed that the management pays attention to when Simchat Torah falls so that they can take appropriate precautions. I am pretty sure they had extra staff on this weekend for just that reason - and it still wasn't enough to control the chaos.

It's such a chilul hashem.

Which is not something I say very often. But it is.

And, on top of that, my fellow Jews have caused me a personal inconvenience. I rely on that lounge as a place to escape to in order to get my writing done. If I can't use it after 6 pm, that means I won't have a quiet place to write. And if I can't use it on weekends, well, it's just really frustrating.

Thanks a lot, guys. Way to celebrate the holiday.

No, I can't go find it again. One might even say it was stolen - except for the part where my coworker had every right to take it...

To begin at something vaguely resembling the beginning:

So on Monday, we had our last big meeting of the year, at which we do The Pick. Yes, that's what they call it, The Pick. Why? Because that's where we pick our caseloads for next year, in order of seniority. There are about 25-30 of us, and that number of caseloads. And so we go down the seniority list, and each person makes their pick. The caseloads are put together based on number of sessions and geographic proximity of schools, and can have anywhere from 3-10 schools on them.

Our caseloads don't belong to us. Every year, there is the possibility that someone else could take it (or that it could be split up and not look like the same caseload as students enter or graduate and numbers shift). Three years ago, I was at the bottom of the list. There was only one caseload, and I got it. It happened to be walking distance from where I live. I was incredibly lucky - and incredibly spoiled. ("Did I mention I can walk to work?" Remember me saying that? And blogging it?)

Two years ago, I totally expected someone else to take it, but no one did, so I chose it back.

Last year, I prepared myself to lose it, even though my coworker who works in the same neighborhood (yes, there are that many schools in the neighborhood - about three or four caseloads that all overlap in the same 30-block area) kept calling it mine as we discussed them. But I didn't lose it, and that was great.

This year, I figured that if no one wanted it last year, why would anyone want it this year?

Then, all of a sudden, three people before me, someone else called out the number of my caseload. Insert internal "whoa" here. The coworker mentioned above went, "oh." Mostly, people just pick back the same caseloads. So even the people near the bottom end up back where they were. But here she was, just three people ahead of me, and she called out mine.

The next two people on the list have bilingual caseloads so they pick from a different set. So, effectively, she was one person before me. Yes, it was that close a thing.

Last year, my coworker and friend who is just below me on the list lost her caseload to someone else, but that other person took her aside and gave her some warning. I didn't get any warning. All of a sudden, it was my turn - about a minute later - and I had to make an on-the-spot choice.

I was shaking. I was feeling lost and overwhelmed. I almost cried. But I didn't cry. I did what I often do when I am thrown off-balance - I gathered information. Three caseloads left. I got the locations and a bit of info on the schools. I began with, "I need a minute!" Of course, everyone understood. Then, I called out, "Where's caseload x?" (i.e. where are the schools located)

My supervisor called me up to discourage me from taking one of the three because of a difficult school on it - she wants the current hearing teacher there to keep it. But since I very much did not want that school, I assured her it wasn't an issue.

This left two caseloads, one south of me, one north of me. (Excuse the lack of more specific info. I wanted this to be a public post.) The one south of me belongs to that coworker/friend who lost her caseload last year. I really didn't want to do that to her again if I could help it. Besides, she told me she has a student who bites. And I don't like the neighborhood she works in.

Good thing the person who took my caseload had a caseload that I can get to on a single train, within half an hour. In a neighborhood that has things like kosher restaurants. And she tells me it's a wonderful caseload, but it took her over an hour to get there.

As I tell some of the staff in the other schools this story, they get angry at my coworker, but I have no hard feelings toward her. I don't think she specifically wanted my caseload. She was just ready to get rid of hers. She told me she stuck with the commute for five years because she likes the schools and the kids so much, but a bunch of them graduated this year, so it was time for a change. And I think she didn't give me warning because she didn't know which caseloads would be left by the time it got to her. I had three to choose from; she had four. And so she waited to see what was left.

So I have a commute next year. And all new schools. And it left me shaken. I was totally blindsided by it.

But it's okay now. I am saying good-bye to all of my current schools, and realizing that there were only a few students who would overlap from this year to next year anyway. About five of them. A bunch graduated, and the caseload shifted a bit, so one school I had isn't on there anymore. And one of my schools - my favorite one in terms of resources (a place to work, computer with printer and internet, phone to the outside, copier that works and doesn't need a code) is phasing out anyway, so half the staff is leaving, and those resources will disappear after next year, I am almost positive. So it was a good year for her to move, and a good year for me too.

This was my first caseload, and so it's good to step away from it and go to a new set of schools now that I have three years of experience under my belt.

So I'll have a commute. That's the bad news. But, overall, I feel kind of excited about the change.

(Well, before a Shavuot evening...)

Snoozing in Shul on a Shavuot Evening
(with apologies to Mr. Frost)

Whose shiur is this that I ignore?
Mediocre, I am sure
They will not see me sleeping here
Unless I give a great big snore

The goyim surely think it queer
The way Jews gather far and near
For all-night learning, dairy cake
Each and every single year

My neighbor gives my arm a shake
He thinks I've made a big mistake
To doze through lectures wise and deep
"You know you want to stay awake!"

"Stay awake?" I want to weep
But that's the minhag that we keep
And hours to go before we sleep
And hours to go before we sleep

(And yes, I expect to fall asleep before the night is over. This poem began with the last line for a reason. So tired... and the learning hasn't even started yet)

So, as it turns out, that final read-through is taking me a bit longer than planned. I still have 90 pages to go out of 250-ish, and then I have to go back and fix one inconsistency that I found.

So remember how I said I'd send it out to the beta readers by the end of the weekend? Well... how about some time before *next* weekend?

Also, so many of you volunteered to beta read for me, and so I want to say thank you. I think it would be a bit too overwhelming to send it to everyone who offered, so if you don't end up getting to beta read, please do not take it personally.

I just finished my handwritten revisions to the first draft of my novel from November. I've been working on them since roughly the beginning of February - which is to say, about a month, maybe a little longer.

I still have plenty of work ahead of me, since I need to get them all into the computer now, so that I can have a real Draft 2, but I've been so eager to get to this point.

Actually, it's not as exciting as I thought it would be. Maybe that's because I'm not *really* done with this round of revisions until I have it all in the computer. Especially because that's when I will start looking around for friends to read it for me, and I'm really eager for feedback, even though I am also a bit worried a lot of it will be bad.

But still, I am done with this step, and that's so much further than I've gotten with any other novel before this. First draft? No problem. I've done a bunch of those. Three for Nanowrimo, and two or three from back in high school. But to take one from first draft to second draft? I didn't even *try* it until I went back to my 2007 Nano novel - and I gave up on that one when I still had a long way to go.

So to actually be done with a second draft? That's an exciting concept.

And to do it pretty much within the target amount of time (I was hoping to be done within a month, and add on a couple of extra days because that month was February.), that's feels even better.

For some odd reason, there was a line from the English readings my synagogue uses for Yizkor (the memorial service) stuck in my head today. Something along the lines of, "Grant me the gift of time."

Though the source of the words is a bit depressing, the concept in them kind of captured what today felt like for me. I am in the middle of a very busy month, and having an entire day of extra time suddenly fall into my lap, well, it was just wonderful.

New York City public schools never close. You have to be able to ski in Times Square before they will declare a snow day.

Well, I didn't check Times Square today, but I certainly wasn't expecting to have the day off.

When my alarm went off this morning, my plan was to head straight for my computer, just to confirm that I did, in fact, have school before getting ready for my day. On the way out of my bedroom, I noticed a piece of paper that had been slipped under my door. It read: "Snow day! No school!" A gift from my apartment mate, who also works in the public schools, and who gets up earlier than I do.

I couldn't quite bring myself to believe it. I had to see it with my own eyes. Sure enough, it was a headline on 1010wins.com. Something like, "Snow storm closes New York City Public Schools." I checked the list of closed schools, just to make sure, and yes. Closed.

I still didn't quite trust it. Neither my apartment mate nor I could quite believe it. All day, we kept saying things like, "wow! A snow day!" Or, "We have a snow day!"

Even better, I had a Hebrew school snow day too (this one, I had higher hopes for.) I was supposed to teach Hebrew school and then have a staff meeting until 8 pm, so that meant my snow day really covered the entire day.

Wow.

And I had stuff I needed to get done. First on the list was going back to bed for another two hours (though I got maybe an hour's worth of sleep in.) Then, a gift for a friend's wedding that needed to be worked on (a ketubah frame), work receipts to go through, and, of course, a novel that I am working on revising.

It was so nice to get a gift of time today. Extra time. An entire day of it.

I really appreciated it.

So as I was warming up at the gym today, someone got on the loudspeaker and called for any doctor in the gym to come to the men's locker room. Over the course of the next few minutes, I saw a multitude of trainers running up and down the stairs (I had a good view of the stairs from my bike), and one person calling out to ask whether anyone had called 911, another grabbing what was probably the defibrillator, and they repeated the call for a doctor, etc, etc.

A couple of minutes after that, the ambulance showed up, and more people headed downstairs.

And meanwhile, I'm sitting there, on the exercise bike, having finished my warmup, not really sure what to do. I mean, the situation was being taken care of - by a multitude of people - and there was no reason not to continue my workout... but it's a bit weird to be working out on the upstairs level of the gym while, down on the basement level, some guy is in pretty bad shape.

Because that was about all I knew for a while: there was a medical emergency involving a man, and it had to be pretty bad, based on all the controlled panic I was seeing. (People were doing what they were supposed to do, but they were also quietly freaking out.)

The trainers up on the second floor were sharing information with each other, speculating as to what was going on, and trying to calm each other down. One of the trainers (the one who did my free session on Tuesday) was freaking out in a way that was visible to her colleagues (though not to me), and they were trying to get her to calm down. She'd been one of the ones who went into the locker room and actually saw the guy. She kept saying, "his skin was this color" and I don't know what she was pointing at, but it seemed like it might be her pale blue shirt. (All of the trainers have to be certified in CPR, and trained in how to use the defibrillator that's in the gym - so they were the first ones down there trying to help the guy.) And I eventually got that he collapsed in the shower, and that they didn't know who he was.

The collapsed in the shower part I got from overhearing conversations.

The part where they didn't know who he was became clear from the number of times they asked every male in the gym to go down there and unlock their lockers - that way, they could see which locks were left, clip them, and figure out who the guy might be. By this point, he'd already been taken to the hospital - I think.

One of the trainers said someone had been doing CPR. That trainer was a bit freaked because, even though they all have to be CPR certified, they never expect to actually have to use it.

Clearly, whatever happened was rather serious.

And it is quite possible the guy died. I have no idea and no way to find out.

Anyway, I went to the gym to work out, and so I did. But knowing that some guy had collapsed at the end of his workout made my own workout, and may have died while I was exercising two floors up, well, it was just a bit weird.

Oh, and on an entirely different note, I kept meaning to post about Obama, but all I could come up with was inarticulate stuff like yay and wow. So yay, he's president. Wow, he speaks well. I am excited.

Supplies:

- 1 set reusable Chanukah oil cups (size 7 - yes, there are sizes)
- 1 set Chanukah wicks (the long kind that reach all the way to the bottom of the cup - the ones you're supposed to put in the metal thing that sits on the bottom of the cup - only the store was out of those)
- 8 tealights (10 if you want a shamash)
- 8 paperclips - the thin gold ones (9 if you want a shamash)
- a pair of scissors

To actually light, you will also need:
- oil (in surprisingly small quantities)
- water (optional)
- a candle to light with
- some way to light the candle
- scissors

Cost: about $10

- oil cups: $6 at the local (expensive) Judaica store
- wicks: $2 (same store)
- tea lights: I want to say you can get 100 for $5 (which is to say we already own large quantities), which means 10 for 50 cents. Or buy a box of 10 for about $1 to $1.50
- paperclips: I already had them, but I am guessing $1? $1.50? Or scrounge around your home/school/office

( Instructions, etc. )

And as for why I am so crazy...

So you know that wooden Chanukiah I own? The one that sometimes catches fire? Yeah, that one. Well, I need to replace it and there was nothing for less than $30 in the expensive local Judaica store, and nothing I liked for less than $60.

And you know those free Chanukah candles I got at Hebrew school? The ones that are supposed to burn for long enough? Well, that's all well and good - when there isn't a massive draft! So this left me with 3 options:

- light away from the window (and thus the draft) so that the candles actually make it past the 20 minute mark. Ideally, past the 30 minute mark, since that's how long they need to burn. But that would mean not lighting by a window, and I like lighting by a window.

- buy the fancy expensive candles that burn for an hour and a half. (I tried a new set of candle that turned out to be the same as my free ones. And uglier too. Silly waste of $6...) Plus, I am not sure the fancy expensive ones would have fared much better. They were burning so quickly I could see them getting shorter!

- try lighting with oil, since burning for longer just involves adding more oil.

And that was how all of this began...

Halfway full of water, my candles still made it to - and past - the 30 minute mark. In a weak draft, they made it to 40. (I am concerned that a stronger draft would have blown them out entirely, but I am hoping I don't get to find out.)

And so that is how you make your own Chanukiah for under $10.

Use at your own risk.

Happy Chanukah.

because I should have gone to bed earlier last nite...

Anyway, need this out of my head, so I am putting into all of yours:

This little piggy played the market
This little piggy lost his home
This little piggy bought on credit
This little piggy had none
And this little piggy cried ee! ee! ee! - he can't get loans

And that is all.