Sherri Cornelius

I’ve been rockin’ it at the library. They say I’m a “quick study.” And indeed, much of how they operate hits me right in the instincts. It seems almost too easy. The time I spend there doesn’t feel like work.This is great for the prospects of my being able to handle a second job.

Or maybe when I finally get Black Veil Angel out in the world, I’ll sell a million copies at five bucks a pop and then I’ll just be working at the library for fun.

Haha, I’m so funny.

But even figuring I won’t sell a million copies (or even a hundred) I’m still on track to publish BVA by, oh, say, March-ish. I was thinking about entering the Amazon Breakthrough Whatever, but I realize that this book is not for that contest. And so I’ll continue with my little self-publishing venture.

My main goal here is to finalize BVA in my mind. When I put Mon Petit Ami out there, it was after years of going back to it, over and over, trying to fix it. It rarely left my thoughts. I put it “under the bed” permanently four or five times, only to find it as an itch in my brain some time later. Probably every person reading this has scratched that itch once or twice.

Then when I needed a piece to experiment with on Smashwords, it seemed like the logical choice. Imperfect, yes, but fairly solid and fun. I straightened its hair bow and pushed it onstage, and you know what? The itch left me. I published it over a year ago and not once have I had the urge to edit. NOT ONCE. I rarely even think about it anymore. I’m free! I’m hopeful this will be the case with BVA as well.

And if a few people get a little enjoyment out of it, all the better.

It feels good to be writing again, even if it’s the clinical, critical kind of writing that is editing. This isn’t rewriting. I’ve rewritten enough. This is taking out stuff I’m not sure of and filling in the gaps..with, by the way, fresh and untainted writing. A good piece to stretch my legs on after all this time, and when I’m finished I might even start a new book.

No pressure.

I have left the worst (to me) job in the world behind. I know some people work there if not happily then somewhat contentedly, but for me it was pain wrapped in gloom stuffed with cabbage. I left on Friday, to start at the library on Monday.

I took with me some small cuttings of fabric and balls of thread from the trash, along with a button which had been stuck in a crack in the concrete floor beside my machine since about my second day. My intention was to burn these things as a symbol of my freedom. I expected the transition weekend to be spent ridding myself of the sewing factory and welcoming the library into my brain space.

I was surprised to find myself putting off this symbolic burning of denim I’d been looking forward to all week. I didn’t need it after all. The factory was just gone, as soon as I walked out the door. Now and then through the weekend I would remember I never had to go back there, whereupon I would be flooded with relief and I might hoot and/or holler for just a sec, but by Sunday I was pretty much done with the hoots and hollers.

I was also surprised to find that I wasn’t frozen with giddy anticipation for my first day at the library. I sort of thought I might be too nervous to sleep Sunday night. But no, I had a feeling of peace and went to sleep with no trouble. Woke up ready to go, calm. I got a little antsy as the time grew nearer to leave, but it was no worse than any other appointment-nerves. Just trying to calculate the time I need to leave, make sure I have everything, etc. Starting my first day at the library didn’t seem especially significant or electrifying—just right. About time.

Being a shelver means I’m walking a lot. Constant movement, as with sewing, except I’m using my lower body more than my upper body. Once again I have to go through a period of adjustment, but hopefully this time I end up stronger rather than broken. This changing schedule is going to be strange for a while. I’ll be working evening shift sometimes, something I haven’t done since Wal-Mart in college. This means that I’m constantly thinking about what time I’m supposed to go to work, what time it is currently, and checking the schedule to make sure I haven’t gotten the time wrong.

Today I don’t have to go in till four. It’s so strange to be home all alone! Only four months ago this was what I did every day, but it feels like a lifetime.

Thanks for sticking with me through the ups and downs. It’s been a long time since I felt really good about something.

Suddenly I’m very busy. I’ve gotten used to having no schedule conflicts—indeed, little schedule at all—because for the past few years almost everything I do is school-related, and they don’t overlap things. I’ve also gotten to the point where if I get showered and brushed by lunch I’m doing well. It’s not that I sit around all morning, but only that I have nowhere to be.

I can feel this changing permanently.

Part of it’s my choice, like tackling some big repair projects around the house, and part of it is out of my control. My daughter has become involved in more extra-curricular activities in middle school, and my son will be there next year. This is on top of the back-to-school season. Another commitment I’ve made is to take charge of my health, which means appointments with various doctors. (I had my first lady doctor visit in about eight years, which tells you something.)

One small (and yet huge) step is volunteering at the library. I started Tuesday, and today it seems like it could have been a dream. I often dream I’m straightening shelves at public places for no pay. Really. I fear I’ll go back in there and they have no recollection of me.

My regular times are Tuesday and Thursday mornings. I have a name tag and my own drawer and everything. On my first day, the lady in charge of volunteers showed me around backstage. It felt strange to pass through that doorway, the one that reveals just a glimpse of the library machinery, and one I’d never considered I might enter. Turns out the working part of the library is almost as big as the public part, only instead of wide spaces and neat shelves, the rooms are stuffed with desks, and papers plaster every surface, horizontal and vertical. It’s wonderfully shabby; clean but impossibly cluttered.

After my tour I was handed off to my boss, (Darlene? Deborah? Oh crap, I’ve already forgotten her name…Yay, got it!) Dorothy. She showed me how to read the shelves, which is basically fixing all the books the patrons thought they were putting back in the right place but didn’t even get close. I will be working in the children’s section, where the shelves are always in flux. So my normal job is to read the shelves, but the each employee I met seemed gleeful about the possibility of using me for her own special projects.

I always suspected my hodgepodge of skills and interests would be useful in a library, and now I know for sure I should have been a librarian from the beginning.

This is a big step, knowing that I can work around people. As far as I can tell, they don’t use any air freshener anywhere in the building, aside from the public restroom. The employee restroom smells faintly of cleaner, but not air freshener. When I finished reading the Beginning Reader shelves my eyes were googly from the shelf reading, but otherwise I felt fine. It could change, I suppose, but at the moment I think I could spend all day in that building and feel fine.

Of course, I would like to work full time at the library someday. But for now, I’ll call it an internship. At least it’s something to put on my resume, and I get to help out a favorite institution.

Now I just have to hope ebooks don’t make libraries obsolete. Would be just my luck to find my perfect job only to have it stop existing. *crosses fingers*

I could do one of two things right now: log into Castleville for the third time today, or write a blog post. Yay for me, making the more productive choice.

I’ve started trying to do that more, now that it seems to make a difference.

You know how sometimes life is just harder? Little things go wrong, attempts to make progress of any kind is thwarted, and you just start expecting things to go wrong? At first you try to stay positive, but eventually you get tired and just hunker down, hoping it passes someday. This is where I’ve been for a while, but it seems to be opening up.

For instance, the library. I went in Wednesday for the daughter’s routine book trade, thinking I’d take the opportunity to speak to the librarian about my volunteer application. Based on previous visits, when she was coincidentally absent to the point of absurdity, I fully expected to miss her again. But this time she was right there at the desk, checking some people out. She finished with them just as I walked up, and though we’d only met once before, she remembered me.

I don’t know why I expect people not to recognize me. I guess it’s because I have such an average face I feel like I blend in.

Anyway, she said July is a pretty busy month (as you mentioned, Fal) and she’d likely be calling me in August. I can’t wait! I feel like this is the first step on the road to actual employment.

So that’s one road block that’s opened up. I’m hopeful more will come.

What about you, any progress?

Well, people, it’s summertime. It hasn’t been horribly hot. I mean, 100+ is a common occurrence in an Oklahoma summer, but not last year’s high of 116. That’s desert heat. We haven’t gone above about 105 so far, but I suppose August could have a surprise or two up her sleeve.

So let’s see, what have I been doing with my not-too-hot summer?

I spent a hundred dollars on a family season pass to the public pool, and by golly we’ve gotten our money’s worth out of that. The pool unfortunately closed early for emergency repairs, but up till this week we went 2-4 times per week. Kept us from spending money on other activities for summer-bored children, so I think we came out ahead.

Plus, all three of the kids can swim now. Abby knew how but she wasn’t confident, and both Jonah and Maggie learned on their own this year, just from spending so much time in the water.

We’ve also been going to the library a lot. It’s cool there, and I can knit while Maggie plays with the toys and the older kids look for books. I put in an application to volunteer, but it’s been almost a week and I haven’t heard back. What, am I so untouchable as an employee that I can’t even volunteer my time in a public institution which welcomes even the homeless to spend all day there?

Surely I’m just paranoid.

Writing and/or self-publishing goals have fizzled as they do every summer. One thing I did accomplish is to remove my single short story from Smashwords distribution and enroll it in KDP Select over at Amazon. They require exclusivity for several months, but after three weeks it still hasn’t been removed from B&N or any of the other Smashwords distribution channels. I don’t guess it will go live on KDP Select until that happens. Still not sure what I’ll do with Black Veil Angel. I’ll admit, I’ve sort of lost interest at the moment.

But school is right around the corner, and that usually means a renewed interest in writing. Summer is for physical stuff, like building a new door for the shed, purging clutter, shuttling the kids to the snow cone stand. When I have all day to myself my mind automatically slows down, turns inward. Hopefully I’ll be able to make use of it this year.