February 17, 2008 § 2 Comments
You can be a Meeting Master if you have a corporate job. You can spend 20 percent of your work week in meetings. You are, of course, presumed high-level enough to be included. These meetings are serious. You prep, you printout, you “Powerpoint.”
You attend. You may take notes, you may even get some ideas. You follow up (to prove you were there, and listening). Yes, yes, it’s all quite similar to PTA meetings, but everyone is dressed up and sits around a long shiny corporate board room meeting table.
Even writers have meetings. Sometimes with a client. Sometimes with a prospective “story” person which is known as an interview and sometimes with a colleague about a mutual work-in-progress.
This morning, I had all of the above.
Then I came home and fell asleep for two hours.
Sitting here now, I am faced with typing up notes from:
a) a major meeting and what should happen next
b) the notes I scribbled during an interview that was more fun than it was exploratory.
About this interview: It may lead to a new story “style” for me. Watch for a story (I’ll let you know later in which publication) where I interview a couple about their amazing house (not because its full of trade and designer/brand words) but because the couple is cool and relaxed. In talking/interviewing this couple, the following occurred:
I got gift ideas for my musician husband.
I enjoyed excellent fair trade coffee at the kitchen table where we munched on chocolate covered almonds and homemade cookies.
We listened to a music collection that had us all just about dancing.
We toured the house, not so they could show off, but just because we were wandering around talking.
We played with finger puppets.
We took turn s in a huge massage chair and played with the settings and laughed.
We examined how you run a wire through a seemingly impossible place in order to plug in some very cool lights in the wardrobe room they built.
We played with the dogs on the huge new rug in the new living area.
And before I left, as I was putting on my scarf and gloves, there were hugs all around.
Writers do get breaks. There is magic. Now all I have to do is make you care about how this couple decorated their kitchen. Yup. That’s what the story is about.
And so the work begins.