What is a quick run bag? It is a bag that can weight no more than 15 kgs about 32 pounds which contains at least one change clothes, some food, some water and whatever you don’t want to leave behind within the 15kg limit. Mine had clothes, my medication, some toiletries, some jewelry and a bunch of speeches I was planning on working on when I was done with the latest edits on my memoir.

So what does 15 kgs have to do with writing? Detail is important in writing, but you have to be careful that it doesn’t weigh your writing down. I find this particularly difficult when I’m trying to write about my life, memoir. It’s my life, isn’t every detail important? Yes, to me, but not to a reader. Sometimes I get bogged down in the detail, detail that doesn’t move the story along. So you need to think about the essentials, if you could only have 15 kgs (that’s figuratively, if you wrote a book and it weighed 15 kgs there most likely wouldn’t be a chance that you had left anything out), what are the essentials to your story. For example in my quick run bag I brought a lot of underwear, I left all the old ratty ones behind, but one of my roommates at the UN compound, there were five of us, brought an iron. Prior to having to pack a quick run bag there was a lot of joking between myself and my colleagues about what to bring, they were teasing me about the sacred frog pillow, I regret to inform you, it did not make it out. Why? Because I knew there would be pillows in Khartoum. I did bring a lot of tampons, a commodity you can’t find in Khartoum.

So in the first draft of my memoir in the part of Bosnia I included a brief romance with this guy Jeff, who dumped me for a big-boobed Bosnian girl. One agent pointed out to me that it didn’t add anything to the story, and she was right, it was more revenge writing, so I dumped Jeff.

As you go through the writing process and hopefully have people reading your drafts, they will most likely have a better feel for extraneous detail or even chapters. Now it’s difficult to leave some things out. For example when I was packing my quick run bag I thought it was too heavy so I took out a pair of ratty old jeans, my favorite holey jeans that had been patched to death and my Keen sandals. Now that I’m in Khartoum and the guesthouse has looted and there is no possibility for recovery I wish I would have packed them, but soon enough I won’t even remember I had them.
When people/readers suggest you leave things out you most likely will feel a bit looted also, but it’s important to be able to take constructive criticism well after all they are only trying to help you. For me if I get something I’ve written back without any edits or suggestions it makes me nervous—like the person didn’t even read it.

Remember 15 kgs is all you get, so choose wisely. When I initially thought I was flying out on Tuesday, that was before the fighting started, I had booked extra kilos on the flight. I was still leaving a lot of stuff behind, but I packed an entire duffle bag of stuff I that I wanted to take. Unfortunately someone else has benefitted from my packing, it was all ready to be walked off with by the looters. Boy are they going to be surprised at the 200 tampons they find. It also had in it Jeff Herman’s Guide to Publisher’s Agents . . . so I’m hoping I get picked up by an agent soon as I won’t be able to get a new copy of that book for awhile.

In addition to being extracted from Kadugli and losing probably $1,000 worth of “stuff” and the sacred frog pillow I was rejected by two more agents this week for a total of 38 rejections. Oh well, hopefully next week will be better.

 So query letters one of the most important things you will ever write and they differ depending on whether or not you are pitching fiction or non-fiction. The reason I’m writing this is because it is difficult to find examples on the web and I wanted to provide the information that I did find all in one place, (this is my excuse as to why it is so long) it’s difficult to remember on which website you saw what and then links change, content gets replaced and then you waste a ton of time that you would spend writing looking for that one article that will help you write the perfect query letter. How annoying.  

 My first pitch was to five agents at the Willamette Writer’s Conference, a verbal pitch is a little bit different, if you live in Oregon or even if you don’t I highly recommend the Willamette Writer’s Conference you can find more information at www.willamettewriters.com. I hope this link works it didn’t work for me in Sudan, but a lot of websites are inaccessible in Sudan due to the sanctions. Also right before the Willamette Writer’s Conference I went to Cynthia Snow’s Pitch Conference. I pitched my story in front of about forty people and it was great practice and I got great feedback. All five of the agents I pitched to at the conference asked for my book proposal.

Here was another mistake I made, I was ready to pitch my book, but I hadn’t written a book proposal. If I had it do to over again I would have had my book proposal, perfected and copies of it, ready to hand it over. As it was I sent the book proposal out almost six months later, before you start pitching have all the documentation you need prepared, book proposal and synopsis. Now as you are reading agent guidelines some of them will ask for different things so you can’t prepare for everything, but if you are writing a memoir you will need a book proposal and a synopsis. After Cynthia’s pitch conference these were the notes that I used to make my pitch:

 My name is TianaTozer. I was a member of the USA Women’s Wheelchair Basketball Team for 6 years. I helped my team bring home the silver from Barcelona and the Bronze from Atlanta.

 I was always an athlete, but I didn’t realize my full potential until I became a wheelchair athlete.

 On May 14, 1988 an intoxicated driver broadsided the car I was riding in and I was thrown out and run over. It took me three weeks to realize how badly I was injured. It took me almost two years to realize that by virtue of my disability I was a second-class citizen.

“I’m Still Waiting for the Elevator” is a story of loss, desperation, acceptance and laughter.

-          It starts at the darkest moment after my crash in June 1988

-          Takes the reader to the unfamiliar area of war and Bosnia and wheelchair athletics

• Traveled to Bosnia to teach veterans of the war wheelchair basketball.

-          Provides an intimate look into hospitals, rehabilitation and the journey of recovering from a life-changing event. 

-          It took 34 reconstructive surgeries and four years to learn to walk again.

My story also underscores the fact that, people with disabilities are still one of the most disenfranchised minorities in society, although some of that is self-inflicted. It’s an introduction to a world most people don’t even know exists.

After completing my book proposal I purchased Jeff Herman’s Guide to Book Editors, Publishers and Literary Agents, great resource, but we aren’t talking now about where to find agents, we are talking about query letters. Once I decided to query agents by e-mail or letter I revised my verbal query into a letter:

I was always an athlete, but I didn’t realize my full potential until I became a wheelchair athlete.  As a member of the USA Women’s Wheelchair Basketball Team for six years, I helped my team bring home the silver from Barcelona and the bronze from Atlanta.

On May 14, 1988 an intoxicated driver broadsided the car I was riding in and I was thrown out and run over. “I’m Still Waiting for the Elevator” is an 80,000 word memoir describing the events after the crash; the loss, redemption and laughter that happen when fate tosses a person upside down. The story begins at the darkest moment when I first grapple with the extent of my injuries while in an ICU ward and then transports the reader to the unfamiliar territory of war, Bosnia and wheelchair athletics. It highlights an idyllic childhood shattered by a single event that forever shaped my view of the world.  

Disability memoir most often focuses on celebration or triumph of the human spirit, “Elevator” diverges from this genre in that it is a straight-forward account of a life-changing event and a woman’s struggle to find her place in a world that seems to devalue the less than perfect.  The memoir provides an intimate look into hospitals, rehabilitation, including learning to walk again and the journey of rebuilding a life. It also takes the reader into the little known world of people with disabilities unlocking the gallows humor, political incorrectness and the language of people who affectionately call each other gimps. Through stories of wheelchair athletic competitions in unlikely places, readers come to understand that having a disability is not a fate worse than death.  

“Elevator” was written to open a dialogue between the able-bodied world and people with disabilities; to shed light on the myths and misconceptions that surround this minority and create understanding to further integration of people with disabilities into society.  It answers the unaskable questions.  

I was first published nationally in 2006 on Starbucks cup #83.  My short story “Satan’s Performance Review” was published in the October 2007 issue of The Wittenburg Door.  I’m also the author of numerous brilliant, but as of yet undiscovered essays; however my annual Christmas letter has a decent following.  As a humanitarian aid worker in Iraq, in 2008, my efforts on behalf of people with disabilities garnered much media attention resulting in 1.8 million dollars worth of free publicity for the organization which employs me.   

I have completed a 78-page book proposal, which includes competing and complementary titles, market evaluation, promotional opportunities and sample chapters.  My book proposal is available for review.  I look forward to hearing from you.  

It is important to address the word length and your platform, why are you the one who should write this book and what do you have going on that will help sales. My biggest mistake in this query was not telling them that I’m a public speaker, I’ve spoken to hundreds of audiences, but with this query they will never learn that unless they request my book proposal. I did get some requests, but it was slow going and it was this lack of response that led me to change my query letter completely. Pay attention now, this was a HUGE mistake.

I was getting some responses from the above query letter, but not enough to suit me so I went on line and did some research about query letters. I found an example from Ms. Snark that she just loved:  

I can see the future. Great, right?

Not really.

Five minutes. That’s what I get. Five minutes of the future.

Five minutes of fog so thick I can barely see, and, most often, vomit-inducing nausea to greet me when I come back to the present.

It’s okay though. It’s taken half my life for me to get a grip on this thing I call the Vision, but I’ve gotten used to it. Got a buddy to clean up after me. Got a girl. Well, she’s a hooker, so I suppose I bought a girl. Even scraped out a decent little life finding the occasional winning slot machine.

At least, it was okay. Until I started seeing the murders.

FIVE MINUTES is complete at just under 56,000 words. I’d be happy to provide a partial or complete manuscript for further review.

Thanks in advance for your consideration,

 So I redid my query to read like this:  

One careless decision, one life altered.

The crushing weight of a 3,000-pound vehicle, one month in ICU, 35 reconstructive surgeries, the loss of childhood dreams.

One mediocre basketball player, one Paralympic athlete, two Paralympic medals, a humanitarian mission to Bosnia. 

The question is why me?  The question is why not me?  It’s the fight to belong, the pain of being different, the struggle to stand out.

Everything you assumed about people with disabilities is about to be challenged.  Hollywood never gets it right.

Here have a seat.  No sit here.  Yes, I know it’s my chair, my wheelchair.  I want you to sit there.  I want you to walk . . . err roll a mile in my wheels.  I know what you think my life is like, I see it your eyes, the pity, the relief that it’s me and not you.  It’s really not like that at all.

Who am I?  I’m the author of Starbucks cup #83.  The survivor of a violent crime.  A public speaker.  The author of a short story “Satan’s Performance Review” published in the October 2007 issue of The Wittenburg Door.  The subject of a documentary film.  University of Oregon’s 2010 Outstanding Young Alumni.  I’m a humanitarian aid worker stationed in Sudan, Africa.  An advocate whose efforts on behalf of people with disabilities in Iraq garnered 1.8 million dollars worth of free publicity for the organization that employs me.  I’m not a hero or courageous by virtue of my disability, I’m very much a normal person.  We have more in common than you think.

What do I want?  I want you to see me, not my wheelchair or my scars, but me.  Don’t be afraid.  I’m not contagious.

“I’m Still Waiting for the Elevator” is a memoir complete at 125,121 words.  I’d be happy to provide a book proposal for further review.  I look forward to hearing from you.

Not one single request for the book proposal why? Because although this style is fine for fiction, it’s not how a memoir query should look. I think I sent this one out for four months before I finally asked for help. Here’s where you benefit from more advice that I paid for. I paid to have someone look at my query, and she suggested I rewrite it more like my first query, the result:  

I understand that you are interested in representing non-fiction books about personal growth by authors who are not terminally insecure. That would be me. In addition, I’m also a person who doesn’t mince words which some people appreciate and some people find offensive.

I was always an athlete, but I didn’t realize my full potential until I became a wheelchair athlete. As a member of the USA Women’s Wheelchair Basketball Team for six years, I helped my team bring home the silver from Barcelona and the bronze from Atlanta.

On May 14, 1988 an intoxicated driver broadsided the car in which I was a passenger. I was thrown out and run over. I’m Still Waiting for the Elevator is a 99,000 word memoir describing the events after the crash; the loss, redemption and laughter that happen when fate tosses a person upside down—more than once. The story begins at the darkest moment when I first grapple with the extent of my injuries while in an ICU ward. Then the story transports the reader to my unorthodox but idyllic childhood shattered by a single event that forever shaped my view of the world.

Disability memoir most often focuses on celebration or triumph of the human spirit. it’s enough to make you want to puke. Elevator diverges from this genre in that it is a straightforward account of a life-changing event and a woman’s struggle to find her place in a world that seems to devalue the less than perfect. It is about rebuilding dreams and coming to terms. It takes the reader into the little known world of people with disabilities unlocking the gallows humor, political incorrectness and the language of people who affectionately call each other gimp. Through stories of everyday life events experienced from a wheelchair and wheelchair athletic competitions readers come to understand that having a disability is not a fate worse than death.

Elevator was written to open a dialogue between the able-bodied world and people with disabilities; to challenge societal assumptions about the value of people with disabilities and create understanding to further integration of people with disabilities into society. It answers the unaskable questions.

I was first published nationally in 2006 on Starbucks cup #83. My short story “Satan’s Performance Review” was published in the October 2007 issue of The Wittenburg Door. The subject of a documentary “The Tiana Tozer Story,” my story was also made available to all Oregon schools in a short video. A member of Fisher’s Speakers Bureau since 1998, I have spoken to hundreds of groups nationwide including the Society of Human Resource Professionals, and most recently to attendees of the Securian sales conference and the Special Olympics Oregon State Games. As a humanitarian aid worker in Iraq, in 2008, my efforts on behalf of people with disabilities garnered media attention resulting in 1.8 million dollars worth of free publicity.

I have completed a 76-page book proposal, which includes competing and complementary titles, market evaluation, promotional opportunities and sample chapters. My book proposal is available for review. I look forward to hearing from you.

I have received three requests for my book proposal. What’s different, I’ve started personalizing my letters; this indicates to the agent I’ve done some research so the first paragraph of this letter is always different. I clearly state my platform, I’m a member of a speaker’s agency and I’ve been published. I based this query letter off of the only example of a non-fiction query letter I was able to find on the web that an agent gave as an example of an excellent query letter:  

I am a psychiatrist, published author, and expert for the national media seeking representation for my memoir titled, Queen of the Road: The True Tale of 47 States, 22,000 Miles, 200 Shoes, 2 Cats, 1 Poodle, a Husband, and a Bus with a Will of Its Own. Because you are interested in unique voices, I thought we might be a good match.

When Tim first announced he wanted to “chuck it all” and travel around the country in a converted bus for a year, I gave this profound and potentially life-altering notion all the thoughtful consideration it deserved. “Why can’t you be like a normal husband with a midlife crisis and have an affair or buy a Corvette?” I asked, adding, “I will never, ever, EVER live on a bus.”

What do you get when you cram married shrinks—one in a midlife crisis, the other his materialistic, wise-cracking wife—two cats who hate each other and a Standard Poodle who loves licking them all, into a bus for a year? Queen of the Road is a memoir of my dysfunctional, multi-species family’s travels to and travails in the 49 continental states. (Tim insisted on seeing them all, despite my assurances that there were a few we could skip.)

As a psychiatrist, award-winning author (I Know You Really Love Me, Macmillan/Dell) and frequent media expert on psychiatric topics, (including Larry King, GMA, 48 Hours, The New York Times and People Magazine), my life has centered on introspection, analysis and storytelling. Yet, I count among my greatest accomplishments that last year, our bus was featured as the centerfold of Bus Conversions Magazine, thus fulfilling my life-long ambition of becoming a Miss September.

The story of our year-long adventure is already garnering interest in the media and has been mentioned in AMA News (circulation 250,000, and this journal of the American Medical Association has already agreed to review the book with an author interview when it comes out), Woman’s Day, Quick and Simple, Match.com and Best Life Magazine. An upcoming Parade Magazine article on the growing phenomenon of mid-life career breaks (who knew I was a trend setter?) will include a photo of Tim and me, along with our story. My blog of our trip has also been mentioned in Andy Serwer’s Street Life ecolumn (Fortune Magazine).

I hope you are interested in seeing the proposal and if so, would be most happy to send it to you via e-mail or snail mail.

Now of course, this woman has an excellent platform and her story has already generated a ton of media interest, but don’t be discouraged, just keep plugging along. After all I’m seven years into my project. But don’t be afraid to revise your query and don’t be afraid to pay for help.

After thirty-six queries between August 2007 and June 2009 I received twenty-one rejections NO! Two requests for my book proposal or sample chapters, which ended in one rejection later and thirteen agents must have broken wrists because they didn’t bother to respond at all. One agent after reading my book proposal asked for my manuscript, but that’s a different story.

Don’t give up! In trying to get published tenacity is your best attribute along with a great sense of humor.

 In 2010, after revising my manuscript I started querying again between November 2010 and March 2010 I sent out another fifty-six queries with the following results, thirteen actual nos, two that said if I don’t hear back within three weeks it’s a no, so two more rejections, five requests for books proposals of which I heard back from two, which were no, that leaves thirty-three agents who are having computer problems or are suffering from broken wrists. I’ll talk about agents later.  

That’s ninety-one queries and a heck of a lot of rejections. But getting rejected by an agent isn’t the worst thing that’s happened to me after all I do play wheelchair basketball. And the most successful people are also the ones who have experienced the most failure. Don’t let the process get you down.

First, your manuscript should be double-spaced, no I’m not stupid. I knew it needed to be double-spaced, what I didn’t know is that there should only be one space between a period and the start of the next sentence. Like this.  Not like this.

Imagine having to go through a 400-something page document and having to take out all those extra spaces. Save yourself sometime.  

Now let’s be clear here, there are thousands, maybe I’m exaggerating manuals on writing and every Tom, Dick and Harriet has his or her own preference the key is to be consistent. So for example all number up to ninety-nine are supposed to be written out. Once you get past 100 you can use the numeral. But basketball scores look funny written out so I do them in numbers winning score first “We won the game 70 to 56.” But, if you say, “They beat us by twelve points,” I would write it out.

Age on the other hand is written out, seven-years-old or eighty-eight, now I’m not sure if once you get over 100 whether it’s the same one-hundred-years-old and then how would you write 101 one-hundred and one?  

If you are describing a person height is written out, “I’m six foot one.” Not 6’1.  

Dates: November 24, 1995, if it’s in the middle of a sentence a comma after the year.  

And a few weird ones that might make you ask, “What the heck is she writing about?” Well hopefully one-day I’ll be published and you’ll see.  

M16 assault rifle – is now you write M16 assault rifle, do not capitalize assault or rifle it would be the same with an AK47.

Injury classifications, if you are writing about disabilities this applies to you, if not feel free to ask a question, T6, C4,

In general writers follow the Chicago Manual of Style, journalists use the Associated Press Stylebook, but since I already paid someone to help me out with these questions I thought I would share. Now if you are writing a piece for a magazine I’m not sure which you would use it would probably depend on the type of piece. Whatever you decide be consistent, you’re gonna get edited anyways, being consistent at least gives you the chance to get edited.

The key is to figure out what you are doing and stick to it, going back through your manuscript and trying to find all the instances where you weren’t consistent or put too many spaces is HELL! Been there done that, please learn from my mistakes.

My next post was going to be about getting started; however, for those of you who like me are in the long and painful process of trying to get published, I’m going to write about query letters. Why? Because I had to search all over the Web to find examples of how to write a query letter and most of the examples were for fiction.

With my sister at the Vegetable Market Stall

I’ve been very busy.  The Q4 and annual report was hellacious and as soon as it was over I flew to Agok and spent two weeks training a new M & E Officer.  I also went to Abyei for the first time, the accomodation there is so hot, buildings, no air conditioning and straw roofs.  We were supposed to go to a community meeting but due to logistics issues we got there 3 hours and 45 minutes late.  It was so embarrassing. I love meeting beneficiaires it is really why we are here; however, I hate failing them. 

As we near the referendum we are preparing to pull our people out of the field, they will pull everyone out of the South soon and then in early January pull them out of the North.  After spending two weeks in Agok/Abyei, I spent a weekend in Juba, then flew to Upper Nile, Malakal to train antother new M & E Officer.  I had asked them to book me extra kilos on the flight and they failed to do so, so when I got to the airport I had to beg everyone going to take some of my luggage.  It was mainly stationary for my team.  I spent a little over a week there and then I had to come back to Juba for meetings.  We only have one year left in the program with no extenstion and so we have to plan.  In addition there was an HR trianing.

So, I’m still in Juba – I will fly to Khartoum on Monday, Monday night meet with USAID and then fly to Blue Nile on the 14th.  I will drive back to Khartoum on the 20th and then leave on the 23rd for France.  Things are difficult here, but my team is great.  There are also issues back home.  I agreed to allow my upstairs “neighbors” to put a garden box outside on my side.  When I was home we surveyed the area and I told them where I was comfortable having it.  I specifically said, “I do not want it in front of my porch.”  I just received my appraisal because I’m refinancing my home and in the photos it shows the garden box right in front of my porch.  I was livid.  I’ve told them to move it to the agreed upon spot and if it is still there when I come home, I’m getting out my hammar and crowbar.

They don’t understand why I’m upset.  They lie to me, put the garden box exactly where I asked them not too and then said they did it for asthetics.  Well asthetics are in the eye of the beholder.  It’s extremely difficult to concentrate on what I have to do here, when my condo is being run by dishonest people.  So on the verge of a civil war in Sudan and in Portland, isn’t life grand.

It makes me angry that my colleagues don’t care enough to do their job well enough to allow me to do mine.  That their poor performance reflects on me.  I feel like some of them are just pulling down a paycheck and whether or not we truly help the people of the Sudan is collaterol.   My perception of their lack of caring pisses the hell out of me.  But why?  Why do I care so much?  Why can’t I except mediocrity?  What drives me?  Do I really care about doing a good job for the people of Sudan or do I care about looking good? 

One of the technical specialists was supposed to review the parts of the report that were his speciality, he told he would get right on it that was Thrusday afternoon, I walked into his office to find him playing solitaire.  “Working hard I see?”  I caught him playing solitaire again on Friday, he never read any of the report and never provided edits. 

In one of our AoRs, one of the expat program managers, hasn’t done a single thing, hasn’t initiated a single new project, maybe hasn’t even been to a project site, it is evident in the numbers coming out of that area that they either don’t care or are grossly incompenent.  This program manager signs his e-mail “God Bless”  it offends me.  Because his actions to me don’t seem very Godly. 

But why do I feel the need to correct their behavior?  Why do I feel they should recieve warning letters or be fired?  Why do I care?  Is it because I feel like they are bringing me down to their level?  Is it because their behavior affects me and I have no control over them being late with their reports or writing at third grade level.  I can control how I react to it; so why don’t I just shrug it off and let the chips fall where they may, what compells me to work ten times harder to make up for them.  Is it my sense of team?  Or am I worried that the report that is submitted under my name will not pass muster with the donor. 

What is it that makes me yell in empty room all things I want to say to them?  I know that if I do say those things to them that it won’t be productive.  How do reach someone who just doesn’t give a damn about doing a good job or how them not doing their job affects you and your ability to do a good job.  How can you approach someone whose ego is so large they don’t know how to listen; what is the trick to changing their behavior besides serious consequences is there one or are they compelled to be the way they are forever. 

I believe people can change, I have sometimes though I wish I didn’t have to be so vocal about things that are wrong, I’ll work on that.  I’m trying not to let people get to me so much; but I find other people’s laziness that causes me to work 16 hour days a bit infuriating.   I think one of the problems is that most people think that everyone else is the problem.  I know I’m outspoken, that I’m very blunt in my feedback, I evoke very strong emotions in everyone I meet, no one is indifferent to me, I have an amazingly biting sarcastic wit, I’m good at anything I put my mind too, I’m too hard on the people I love, I have high expections of everyone, but especially myself, I can be mean and when I am it is usually intentional, I’m very critical of other people, but most critical of myself, I love to laugh, I’m very sensitive and I get hurt easily, right now this program is hurting my heart. 

I have failed more times than I can count, but I’m also very succesful.  I’m fortunate in my friends, I hate cowardice and liars, nothing enrages me more than dishonesty and when I myself am dishonest I feel a profound sense of shame. 

My boss found several embarassing errors in the report, I started offering up excuses , but ultimately it was my responsbility and regardless of what I recieved, compiling and end product was my responsbility and I failed and it was embarassing.  I said I’m sorry I did the best I could under the circumstances and I’ll try and do better in the future. 

And you thought I was going to tell you why I’m a humanitarian aid worker. Faulkner said “Don’t just try to be better than your adversaries or contemporaries, try to be better than yourself.”  I’m already better, than those people so now I have to be better than me, what does that mean?  I’m going to try and find a way to communicate with my colleagues about just how their behavior affects me in away that doesn’t alienate them, but rather makes them think.  I’m going to try and take deeper breaths when I get poor work and realize that, their poor work is a relfection on them not me.  I’m not going to care less, I’m going to continue to care passionately about doing the best I can and making the people around me better.  

I will do the best job I can under the circumstances and with what I have to work and I will continue to work on my areas of improvement, biting my tongue so I’m going quit telling people that they are hanging themselves I’m just going to sit back and watch them do it.  The number one cause of death for aid workers is car crashes and yet one of our technical specialist never wears his seatbelt, I’ve quit telling him to put it on, if he goes through the windshield I’ll write a nice note to his family.  Not letting things get to me so much, so instead of working deep into the night I’m going to start sending things back in track changes mode and with questions and have people resubmit, but nicely. “Thank you so much for your report, please see my edits, please accept changes and answer all questions and resubmit by (date here). 

Do you think I can do it?  I can.  My friend Mac said to me once, “You’re the only person I know whose done everything you said you were going to.”  She remember sitting in the dorms with me at a training camp and I told her I was going to write a book, when I called her the other day to ask some questions about wheelchair basketball to finish the edits on my book, she was amazed.  I always thought people did what they say they are going to do.

I once asked my Mom’s best friend Layle when I would be old enough to quit doing dumb things, she said, “Never, I’m 65 and I still do dumb things.”   I guess that’s the great thing about being human, we are fatally flawed, but we struggle on and strive to be the best we can.

First of all, there are four things to be submitted with the report only two partners all documents and on time. So then the qualithy of the writing was poor and it was basically bullet points 20 mosquito nets distributed, 15 traditional attendants trained. Then on top of that it was missing information and the data in the narrative didn’t add up with the data sheets. I used every single swear word I knew yesterday and then I think I even made some up.

Seriously, there is a lack of professionalism in the NGO world. Once of my colleages describe it as “Touchy feely people who eat their own young.”

Then at the last minute when I was trying to make it pretty I couldn’t figure out the formatting on the page numbers and I didn’t have many photos from Upper Nile and Southern Kordofan. The report was 65 pages long and I spent since October 15 writing it. I must have sent more than 100 e-mails clarifying things that were written.

Then the kicker, one of the partners forgot to send it a jpeg photo with their report and asked me to send over my M & E Officer to collect the photo, when he got over there, they told him, “Oh were not working today.” I was sooooooo pissed that I’d wasted my time and resources to help them out and they “weren’t working.” Get off your ass, open up your computer and get the photo how hard is that. NGO workers. SIGH.

The issue is that we need more people in this work who have worked in the professional world, but NGOs are snobby about, “Oh you have to have field experience,” so instead of getting compentent professsionals we get people who have lived in hardship places but can’t get anything done. Another interesting thing is that I used to want to work for the UN and I thought they were a good organization, but once you get out here, you realize just how worthless they are, a total and complete waste of money. If I were president of the United States I would pull all development money out of the UN. And every NGO worker you talk to has the same opinion. There are a few good people in the UN, so I’ve heard, I haven’t met any yet, so don’t be fooled, they aren’t doing anything out here at least not on the development side, oh wait yes, they are, they pull down huge salaries, and huge per diems, our taxpayer dollars hard at work.

So now I’m working on another report and then I’m preparing for data quality assessments and then I’m going to work on how to never, ever have to relive that experience again. Getting information out of people for the report reminded me of being in the hospital having my leg debrided, everyday they would discover a little bit more tissue that was dying and every other day they would remove a little bit more; tedious and painful.

Oh well it’s done now, onto the next challenge. But that is why I haven’t been writing, because I’ve bene writing the annual report, more like rescuing.

On the stairwell, headed up to pick my recent printing off the copier, three shots rang out, the Operations Manager dashed my me on his was downstairs,   I headed to the porch to check it out, don’t worry I stood against the wall. 

It appeared that a car ran over a little girl, a crowd gathered and shots rang out, the crowd got unruly and started retreating followed by a solidier with a gun, he fired slightly above the crowd, but I could see the puffs of smoke from his gun.  As the solider chased the crowd I watched a women help a little girl around 11 or 12 across the street into a different compound.  It was slow going. 

The car drove off and I saw the crowd throwing things at it; there were rumors about what happened, the most common, a land dispute.  I heard someone was shot, no one is dead, but its all speculation.  All I know is that the soliders seemed unpredicatable and out of control.  “Why would you ever fire into a crowd of unarmed civilians? 

It always seems like its the crazies who have the guns. 

It was interesting watching our national staff most of them didn’t blink an eye. 

For me, after a week of trying to put together the Q4 and annual report, I’m exhausted.  I slept until 1:00 p.m. today, then went in search of coffee at my neighbors,  the MC compound is a group of four apartments and then transit rooms, with a bed and shower in the back.  There is a communal kitchen for the transit area and a living room, unfortunately the TV doesn’t work.   So, I was at my colleagues apartment watching a movie “My Sister’s Keeper” drinking my coffee when one of my colleagues a young lady from Burma finished cooking, she came out and told me on saturdays we watch football and promptly changed the channel.  I would rather do almost anything than watch sports BOOOORRRRRRRIING, unless its live, so I made another cup of coffee and left.

I tried to commendeer someone else’s TV, but no luck, I wish they’d fix the damn TV back here.  

So I guess I’ll work a little more on the Q4 and annual report and my book.  I’ll spend one more week in Juba, then fly to Khartoum on Saturday, spend a little over a week in Khartoum, then back to Juba, to Agok for a week or so, then to Upper Nile. 

Keep your fingers crossed for me, I’ve given myself until the end of December to fix the data mess I’m dealing with.

“I came out the front,” he said. 

I remember that the nose of the plane was down in the water while the butt was up.  The rescue workers told me I was one of the few they pulled out of the water.  Obviously I watched The Titantic recently.  But then the scene changed, the only thing that didn’t change was the fact that I was seriously crying.  And then, I woke up.

I know that to dream of a plane crashing, means you feel your life is out of control, but I didn’t actually dream of a plane crashing, I started my dream after the crash.  Actually the dream interpretation web site states that “To dream that a plane crashes, signifies that you have set overly high and unrealistic goals for yourself. You are in danger of having those goals come crashing down. Alternatively, the crashing airplane represents your lack of confidence, self-defeating attitude and self-doubt. You do not believe in your own ability to achieve those goals. Loss of power and uncertainty in achieving your goals are also signified.”  O.K. so what’s new, I always set overy high and unrealistic goals for myself. But if I survive the plane crash what does that mean?  Maybe it is significant of the fact, that I set unrealistic goals for myself which everyone around me doesn’t think I’m going to acheive?

So then because I was under water in my dream for a little while I looked up water and it said: “To dream that you are underwater, suggests that you are being overcome with emotions and are in over your head regarding some situation.  You need to gain greater control of your life.” Well that’s not really a newsflash either. I’ve been over-my-head since I arrived in Sudan.

So I tried to look up survivor, nothing, so then I looked up boat and it said, “To dream that you are in or see a boat, signifies your ability to cope with and express your emotions. Pay particular attention to the condition and state of the waters, whether it is calm or violent, clear or murky, etc. Are you “smooth sailing”? Alternatively, you may be ready to confront your unconscious and unknown aspects of yourself. The dream could be telling you not to rock the boat and to stay out of harm’s way.” 

Well I always rock the boat so hmmm, the waters were calm and very clear, gosh I hope it means that I’m ready to confront my unconscious and unknown aspects of me.  I can’t wait to meet the rest of me.

Calling all dream interpreters what does it mean to survive a plane crash in a huge body of water, I remember looking up and seeing the trap door, emergency exit and then floating on top of the water, then being in a rescue boat and seeing someone else from the plane, then being emotionally distraught.  

I mean right now I’m in Sudan, the program I’m working on is a mess, I have a lot of things to clean up and a lot of hardwork ahead of me, does this dream mean I’m going to make it; or am I just dreaming?  

But to be honest where would I put 180 cows and then how would I get my cows and my husband back home?   It’s a dilemma.  But it makes me think of my friend Kari who is 6’3 now she is probably worth 200 cows at the least.