All was well for the first ten minutes of Summer Heacock’s first Faculty-Selection Meeting as the newest member of the Midwest Writers Workshop Planning Committee.
Until she goes to our bathroom.
Minutes later, she fast-forwards from our hallway to the living room. “MY PHONE! My phone! I dropped it in the TOILET!
She thrusts the potty-watered phone into Kelsey Timmerman‘s hands, “Take off the case! Oh My God! My phone!
“Oh no, you dropped your brain in the toilet!” Kelsey says and begins pulling and yanking and grunting and summoning all his Crossfit strength. Summer in clear panic moans, “My phone, my phone.” Then, in typical Summer-humor, adds as Kelsey struggles with the slippery device, “I’d take a picture of you, but you’ve got my PHONE.”
I watch all this unfold from the kitchen, then do what I do: pray. I mean, this is Summer’s PHONE!
And I worry about the heart monitor hanging on a lanyard around her neck. Will it start beeping or blaring? Is it transmitting dangerous signals to those medical folks monitoring her thumpity-thumps? Because, you know, she had a HEART ATTACK in August. A HEART ATTACK.
My husband John calmly goes to the cabinet and grabs a box of Uncle Ben’s long-grain brown rice and an empty Cool Whip container. Kelsey finally frees the phone from the case. Maybe the orange Muncie Crossfit T-shirt he’s wearing helps.
Kelsey submerges the phone into the bowl of rice. And we all hold our breaths. No alarms from the heart monitor. Yay.
Everyone takes a seat around my kitchen table and I start the meeting. Summer hugs the Cool Whip container with so much of her life inside covered in brown rice and gently rocks back and forth in her chair.
I sigh and start the conversation of MWW15 and Part I: we discuss (Blank) returning to teach mystery. MWW fav (Blank) for fiction and craft. Cathy Day’s session. Holly Miller and Dennis Hensley’s session. YA session with big name (Blank). Kelly Stanley’s suggestion of (Blank) for nonfiction.
Then {Pause}.
Summer’s phone beeps. “What does that mean? What do I do? Is the phone turned off?” She opens the lid and takes the phone from the rice. The screen is streaked and green. Still sick.
{Return to meeting}
I check my list of faculty already confirmed: the magnificent Jane Friedman, and tax-man/business genius Gary Hensley.
We discuss more potential faculty for Part II: Lori Rader-Day and (Blank) for middle-grade, (Blank) for screenwriting, (Blank) for short story. I call Ashley Ford, who says, “Of course, I’ll come.”
Then {Pause}
Another check on the status of Summer’s phone. Still puny. I can’t believe she’s not crying. She tenderly lowers the ailing phone into the rice.
{Return to meeting}
It’s on to discussing the agents and Brooks Sherman returning, and contacting (Blank) and (Blank) and (Blank) and (Blank) about coming.
And always tweaking and seeking improvement, we review the names of editors such as (Blank) and (Blank) and (Blank).
{Pause}
Our discussion returns to THE PHONE. “It may take the whole weekend. Just leave it in the rice,” Mike Brockley recommends.
“My pictures,” Summer whispers.
I keep praying.
And thus wraps up, Summer’s first Faculty Selection Meeting. She takes the Cool Whip container and its precious cargo to her car and heads home. With no working PHONE. With no GPS.
Later, safely home, she sends a text that her phone is “sort of” healed. “The typing is a bit wonky. But I’ve got it in the rice bucket still.”
I’m keeping the faith. God cares about the stuff we care about.
[If I were fizzygrrl-ified, this post would include GIFs every few paragraphs. Not going to happen. Therefore, you’re on your own, people. Re-read and insert your own moving images of Benedict Cumberbatch, Nathan Fillion, Matt Smith, and kittens.]But I’m the Happy Day Moment girl, so I’m believing and hoping. All will be well.
