The Cleaning Lady; Winners of Scoops Birthday Party Prizes

 

Please don’t hate me when I tell you that I have a cleaning lady.

Because I find cleaning uncreative, boring, and well… dirty, it’s worth my hard-earned money to pay someone to dust, mop, and scrub. And if I didn’t have a job, it’d be worth my husband’s hard –earned money to pay someone. 

Recently I was de-cluttering the dining room. “What are you doing?” asked my husband. ”I thought Wendy was coming tonight.”

“She is, but I don’t want her to see what a mess we live in.”

He chuckled and shook his head. I think he quit trying to figure me out about thirty years ago.  

“It’s pretty bad that I only clean house right before the cleaning lady comes, huh? But I guess it’s good I have her, or I’d never clean.”  

He left the room then, so I talked to myself as I threw away old mail and wiped the table. “Cleaning is like editing. If I want to write for only God and myself, I don’t worry about cleaning it up. I mix metaphors, tell instead of show, and use tons of passive verbs (I feel sorry for passive verbs, since writers have gone on strike against them. But that’s another article). 

“But if I want to share my writing, I need to clean it up, so my readers won’t be appalled at how messy I am.  I edit my fingers to a frazzle, making my writing as perfect as I’m capable of, so an editor—the cleaning lady, if you like—will fall in love with it and buy it. Then I can make more money to pay my housecleaning lady. See how well that works?”

I pretended he heard me, and that the sounds coming from his den were sounds of agreement.  But I rather think he was enjoying the John Wayne movie he was watching.

Do you clean, create, and work for yourself and God, as well as for others? How does your work differ when you do it for others?

P.S. The Winners of our Two Scoops One Year Birthday Party are:

1st Place: Denise from Shortybear's Place!

2nd Place: Rose Chandler Johnson from Write Moments with God!

3rd Place: Cecelia Lester (Quietspirit) from Following My King!

Thanks to all who entered, and for all your warm congratulations. I appreciate you!

Frog Kissing: Is it Worth It?

Thirty-some years ago I quit piano lessons because I would not discipline myself to practice. Now I'm a speaker, singer, and writer. This year I've spoken 14 times, and I have four more scheduled, plus two radio interviews. I usually sing during each message, so you could say I've sung that same amount of times this year.

And I write a lot.

But I still hate to practice. I must force myself to go over my message notes or songs or edit my writing.

I love the thrill of the initial creation of a message, an article, or a story. But the perfecting of it is tedious, like polishing the silver or ironing a blouse with seventeen buttons. It. Is. Work. Not fun.

Still, it must be done to have a message that speaks to the heart, a book that changes souls, a song that kisses a frog into a prince.


So, when I'm done writing and posting this, I will gather up my music and practice my songs for this Saturday, when I'm speaking and singing for a lovely group of ladies in Chicago. I think they deserve a well-polished message and kisses-filled songs.

And you? Do you like to practice, edit, polish, and iron? Or like me, must you force yourself? Is the kissing worth it?

The Cleaning Lady

Please don’t hate me when I tell you that I have a cleaning lady.


Because I find cleaning uncreative, boring, and well… dirty, it’s worth my hard-earned money to pay someone to dust my coffee table and mop my kitchen floor. And if I didn’t have a job, it’d be worth my husband’s hard-earned money to pay someone.

Recently I was de-cluttering the dining room, pulling sweaters off the backs of chairs and hanging them in the closet. “What are you doing?” asked my husband. ”I thought Wendy was coming tonight.”

“She is, but I don’t want her to see what a mess we live in.”

He chuckled and shook his head. I think he quit trying to figure me out about thirty years ago.

“It’s pretty bad that I only clean house right before the cleaning lady comes, huh? But I guess it’s good I have her, or I’d never clean.”

He left the room at this point, so I talked to myself as I threw away old mail and wiped the table. “Cleaning is like editing. If I want to write for only God and myself, I don’t worry about cleaning it up. I end sentences with prepositions, tell instead of show, and use tons of passive verbs (I feel sorry for passive verbs, since writers have gone on strike against them. But that’s another article).

“Now, if I want to share my writing, I need to clean it up, so my readers won’t be appalled at how messy I am. I edit my fingers to a frazzle, making my writing as perfect as I’m capable of, so an editor—the cleaning lady, if you like—will fall in love with it and buy it. Then I can make more money to pay my housecleaning lady. See how tidily that works?”

I pretended he heard me, and that the sounds coming from his den were chuckles of agreement. I rather think he was enjoying the John Wayne movie he was watching, while creating more clutter for me to pick up before Wendy came.

Do you ever write for yourself and God alone, as well as for others? For the writings you clean up, how long do you spend editing vs. writing?

The Superfluous Snipper Award

The Winnner of the Superfluous Snipper Award is...


Caroline Brown! Congratulations, Caroline, and thanks to everyone who entered this fun contest. The superfluous words were:

vital
just
ever
the very
in order
sure
literally
each and




Some of you found more than my eyes caught; I applaud you for your editing expertise.

Do you enjoy finding and fixing your mistakes? We grow by editing our superfluous words, and tacky attitudes.