GIRL WITH THE RED CASE SHEDDING EXCESS BAGGAGE

About twelve years ago, my hubby gave me an incentive to shed some excess kilos. A couple of months passed after his promise of a surprise. After shedding ten plus shed kilos, I was presented with a brand new burgundy suitcase and an airline ticket to Switzerland to visit two friends for three weeks. Noel had spent months secretly planning this huge birthday surprise.

The suitcase was enormous and I determined to fill it. I’ve since learnt to travel far lighter, although it’s taken several trips of carrying myself to death and suffering from excess baggage panic attacks, to learn this lesson.

But alas, time and time again, those lost kilos somehow seem to find their way home and all too often they bring a few additional friends.

As I plan for the Florida Christian Writers Conference in March 2010, I’ve once again embarked on a programme to shed some excess baggage. A monthly one week fast of fruit and vegetables, water and black, sugarless rooibos tea (that’s a famous South African herbal tea) has already started to bear some fruit, if you’ll pardon the pun. Many clothes that not too long ago sat perhaps a little too snugly, once again fit comfortably.

This shedding programme reminded me of my first novel which I completed a few months ago. It took eight months to write―another eight months edit. Like my burgundy suitcase, this first piece of literary work was far too large, and resulted in my packing an additional 50,000 words more than I should have. You see, I’ve subsequently discovered that the ideal length for a novel is between 80,000 to 100,000 words―120,000 tops―and I realised that 168,000 words would just lead to rejection letter after rejection letter. It was a long and hard exercise, but oh so worthwhile. I learnt so much during those months in which my manuscript went on diet.

This reminds me of the saying: “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.” (And no, even though I’m from Africa and have a few kilos to shed, I’m thankfully no elephant―just to clarify that point!) So I have to ask, how does an author trim down her work? “One word at a time.”

Before Shirl and I leave for Florida next year, I hope to complete the sequel to my novel. But I’m a little concerned this novel will suffer a fate completely the opposite to its predecessor. Just over half way through writing, with plots and subplots jotted down, I’m praying I won’t run short of words and have to pump up this piece of fiction. I’m quite certain that it’s far easier for an overweight person to lose weight, than it is for an anorexic to gain weight. Hopefully the same is not true to get to the right (or write) literary size.

Only eight months to go, but I’m confident by the time I board the plane, my red suitcase, two manuscripts and I will be just the right size for the US market.

THE GIRL WITH THE RED CASE WONDERS ABOUT WHAT MESSAGE WE WILL LEAVE BEHIND

With all the preparations for 2010, Gauteng roads have become a nightmare. Not only is there construction on the Gautrain rail system wherever you look, but every inch of the highway between Pretoria and Johannesburg is either getting an additional lane, a new off-ramp, or a resurface. Hence, I’ve taken to reading bumper stickers on my tiresome morning commute to work.

Earlier this week I read two stickers (on the same bumper) that disturbed me immensely, viz. “Christianity has pagan DNA,” and “Born again … and again … and again … and again.” I came to the swift conclusion that the joyless man behind the wheel was either one extremely confused Christian, or an embittered human being with a grudge against Christianity. I quickly settled for the latter, for Jesus Christ is the foundation of the Christian faith and there is certainly no trace of pagan DNA in the Son of God―only heavenly, godly genetics. The other reason for my conclusion: rebirth is a once in a lifetime happening, not something that occurs multiple times within a Christian’s life.

I couldn’t help noticing, however, that most passing vehicles had no stickers or advertising plastered on their rears. It struck me that the majority of people are like these message-less modes of transport. They traverse through life with no story to tell; nothing to offer those that pass them by. No one will notice their coming or their going. They leave nothing for the world.

I challenge you reader: what message are you leaving behind to those you bump into every day? When people look back as you pass them by, will they somehow have been affected by their interaction with you?

Shirl and I have our own frantic preparations for 2010, with construction happening on novels, devotions, one-sheets, business cards, research, etc. (the non-stop list of preparation work for the Florida Christian Writers Conference goes on).

Stuck in traffic and considering this sticky rear end issue, I pondered about what impressions Shirl and I would leave behind on the American writing community? Once the hype of the conference is over and we’ve returned home to South Africa, will we be remembered as talented writers with a future in the published world? Or will the kindred spirits we meet during that week get to know us as writers who want to glorify God with the talents He’s gifted us with―whether published or unpublished? Hopefully both!

There’s one thing I do know we’ll be known for, however. . . the girls with the red cases.