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the everyman memoirs

The official blog of author Tali Nay.
MAR
04

On Perspective

This picture was taken in Palm Springs in the middle of a windstorm that came out of nowhere, which was weird and also weirdly liberating. I had just gotten my hair cut and felt like it captured me as I don't usually see myself. Which is to say that everything about it, even the angle, seemed to offer a different perspective.

How we ultimately feel about various circumstances in our lives usually comes down to our perspectives. Perspectives are made up of our history of experiences, yes, the things we've been exposed to (or not), the things we've learned (or not), the things we've overcome (or not). But perspectives are also made up of aspects of our own personalities, those things that are baked in, so to speak, parts of our DNA, our characters, our temperaments, that are unique to us. I've been thinking about perspectives in a rather pandemic-specific light lately, particularly after my department at work had a recent team meeting where we discussed the pros and cons of working in the office and working at home and began to try and brainstorm what kind of hybrid model might work best for us once we are given the clear to come back.

What struck me about this meeting was how varied people's thoughts on the subject are. You have some (and I'm in this camp) who rather enjoy working from home, and some who say they have hated it and never want to do it again. You have some who feel they are more productive at home, and some who feel they get more done in the office. There was no single solution that seemed it would be optimal for everyone going forward, and it's largely, again, because of our own perspectives and circumstances. Those who have quiet, empty homes are in different situations than those working in closets to avoid their noisy children. Those who have long commutes are in different situations than those with short ones. Those who tend to rely more on other departments are in different situations than those who can for the most part do their work independently. And then there's the personality aspect, the fact that not everyone values the flexibility of cooking scrambled eggs during a conference call, going for a run at lunch, and not having to be showered and in makeup and high heels and a non-elastic waistband by 7:30 in the morning as much as I do. Which is to say that I value these things so much that it's almost worth things staying bad/closed. 

I hope what does come out of this is a true hybrid model that prioritizes flexibility and doesn't forget how effective we've been at working remotely for an entire year. I hope companies, especially conservative ones like mine, remember this efficacy and consider our individual perspectives, which vary, and create a scenario where everyone can thrive. And I hope my pencil skirts still fit when it's time to put away the elastic waistbands. 

OCT
26

Manuscript Babies

 

This picture was taken without my knowledge while at Disneyland last week with a certain little person in my life. This little person is quite different than his older brother, whom I took to Disneyland last year, and as a person with no little people of my own, the differences between the personalities of little people is not something I’m able to observe very often. That’s one reason why last week was such a surprise to me. I was expecting the week to go much differently. Neither worse nor better, it was just different. Because they are different. We spent much more time observing details than we did careening down mountains. And I have no complaints about that.

When it comes to differences, I can’t even really compare animals because I only have one (best girl I have, that’s what I tell her). So that leaves me—the childless cat-lady author—with nothing but manuscripts to compare. True that they are my babies, in a way only someone without children would say. True that they exist because of me. That they make me worry and cry and stress and don’t make me any money. That I love them all unconditionally. That they are each my favorite but for very different reasons.

I’ve been making steady progress on my new manuscript, up to 90% finished now. 90%!!! It’s that weird part of the writing process where you’re so close to being done (exciting!) but long finished with your favorite and best parts (demotivating!). See, I don’t write my manuscripts in chronological order. I don’t write from start to finish. I make a list (which constantly changes) of things I know I’ll want to include in the book, and then I pick one and write it up. Then pick another. And another. But I’m no fool. And I pick the things I want to write about most first. If that sentence sounded strange, what I mean is I first pick the things I most want to write about. The Goods. The Juice. The Triumph. The Bitch Who Lived Downstairs.

Which means I’m left now with the dregs, if you will. The stuff I keep passing over each time I select a topic to write. The stuff I haven’t chosen until now. It’s not bad. It’s just not the stuff I couldn’t wait to write down. But the end is near, and that’s pretty incredible. A new sibling to my other manuscripts, one which I’m sure to love equally and with abandon. Even if he takes cross-eyed selfies when I’m not looking.