Enviable grace replaced with not-so-enviable clumsiness
Hey all, do you remember when reviews of My Summer of Southern Discomfort first came out? No? It wasn't quite the thrilling event on par with say the day you got a free slurpee? Fine. That's okay. I remember. I especially remember the Booklist review because it said I had rendered my main character's problems with "enviable grace." This was at the forefront of my mind last night when I found myself stuck half-in, half-out of my bookcase. The other half was stuck on a stability ball.
Picture of stability ball:
Looks pretty harmless, no?
I was trying to perform a side crunch. My hands were on the floor, in push up position, my belly was on the ball and I was twisting my legs to the side, when I rolled and got my feet and legs stuck in the lower shelf of my bookshelf. A lot of thoughts went through my mind, "How do I fix this? I hope my books are okay! I can't believe I'm stuck. I can totally believe I'm stuck. Oh hell, I have no leverage. How do I get unstuck?"
This woman loves her ball. It has never tried to kill her.
I started laughing and then calling "Help" in a very small voice because I didn't want anyone to find me in that position. Not to mention, there wasn't much anyone could do for me. Eventually I had to settle on gently falling off the ball to the other, non-bookshelf side.
You know what? After that fitness fiasco, I have to say my editing went well last night. Perhaps my writing's grace is inversely proportional to my physical grace. In which case I say, "Bring on the bruises!" It's all about the writing, sugar. I'm willing to take a few hits for my art.
Objects d' torture? Or aides to art?