"National Geographic: The Gift That Keeps Coming"

 

         Every year for Christmas we receive a subscription of National Geographic for Christmas. I think this last year marked the thirty-second consecutive year that the magazine’s been renewed. Now, I love the magazine; but after so many years, I’m running out of attic space to store the back issues. I called around once to see if any schools or local libraries would take our issues, and gave up trying to find a home for them. Recently, I’ve toyed with the idea of tossing all of them into the huge recycle bins over by the local elementary school, but that seems so wasteful.

         When I taught, I’d take several years’ worth of subscriptions in for my students to read. Many of the kids enjoyed the maps, the wonderful glossy photography, and the articles on exotic places and animals. Occasionally, students would ask if they could keep magazines, and I thankfully encouraged them to take whatever they wanted.  Eventually, the thumbed through magazines became sources for art projects. Now that I’ve retired, I’m at a loss on what to do with them. Next week, our city has a huge trash pick-up and citywide garage sale. I toy with the idea of taking the boxes out to the front yard and placing huge FREE signs on them.

         I guess my longing to clear out closest and attic space signals a shift in my life. My tendency to catalogue and box away books and magazines for “future references” shifts to a need to clean, sort, and simplify. I donated hundreds of books to Goodwill during my last year of teaching. I had “open classroom” giveaway afternoons where other teachers came to my room, raided my closets and bins, labeled book shelves and tubs, and rummaged through thirty years of teaching treasures. Perhaps the purging bug began then, and now it’s continuing into my personal life. I did begin following the guideline that if I buy something, I need to donate or throw away a similar item. A new pair of shoes means I now forfeit a pair. If I succumb to the lure of a set of dishes, an older set must find a new home.

         If I have my way, some kind person will drive up during the curbside clean-up and appreciate the wonderful gift left in our front yard. A bargain hunter may snatch the magazines up to resale at a garage sale or a flea market to try to make a little profit.  I like to imagine another family picking up the boxes and discovering the world through National Geographic's perspective.

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman  

"Blowing Off the Dust"

         Like many writers, I have my first manuscript hidden away. The yellow binder draws my eyes only when I make a forage into my closet in search of something else. I crafted the original draft on an old Amiga computer in the early 1990s. Remember 3.5 floppy discs? With diligence, I printed chapter after chapter using my new dot matrix printer. The book’s setting, Iraq, sent me to the library on weekly forays where I unearthed National Geographic articles, English to Arabic dictionaries, and a copy of the Qu’ ran. I loaded my car with textbooks and histories of the country and the entire Middle East while also dipping into novels and stories set in the region. I researched the old, hard way as I weaved my characters into real world places and events.

         I longed to write an entire manuscript created from one small idea and refine it into a draft worth publishing. In the year that I had to work on the novel, I penned a promising draft. Then, I had to return to full-time work.

         The printed story sat in a desk drawer. I occasionally pulled it out and polished passages. Sometimes I’d rewrite entire chapters. Sometimes I’d fine tune a phrase. Eventually, the manuscript shifted from a drawer to the closet into a nondescript box and became buried under life’s odds-n-ends. Our old Amiga gave way to iMacs and homebuilt PCs while the dot matrix printer shifted into obsolescence, and the novel drifted into the back corners of my mind.

         A few summers ago, I unearthed the box with yellowed pages of barely legible ink. I felt as though I’d neglected a child as I reread the book. Maybe driven by a little guilt, I retyped the entire text and printed a copy using my laser printer. I placed the pages into a bright yellow binder and positioned it on a shelf next to the notebook that contains the final, hard copies of my blog. There is no way I can let myself forget this manuscript yet again.

         On Friday, I decided to revisit this old friend. Delighted to find she’s aged well, I’m making her my next major writing project. I can’t wait to use the ease of the Internet to double check all of those details I used as I spun my narrative. Maybe the years I’ve spent sharpening my skills means I’ll finally blow off the dust from this story and share it with my readers.

Copyright 2018 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“National Geographic: The Gift That Keeps on Coming”

         Every year for Christmas we receive a subscription of National Geographic for Christmas. I think this last year marked the thirty-second consecutive year that the magazine’s been renewed. Now, I love the magazine; but after so many years, I’m running out of attic space to store the back issues. I called around once to see if any schools or local libraries would take our issues, and gave up trying to find a home for them. Recently, I’ve toyed with the idea of tossing all of them into the huge recycle bins over by the local elementary school, but that seems so wasteful.

         When I taught, I’d take several years’ worth of subscriptions in for my students to read. Many of the kids enjoyed the maps, the wonderful glossy photography, and the articles on exotic places and animals. Occasionally, students would ask if they could keep magazines, and I thankfully encouraged them to take whatever they wanted.  Eventually, the thumbed through magazines became sources for art projects. Now that I’ve retired, I’m at a loss on what to do with them. Next week, our city has a huge trash pick-up and citywide garage sale. I toy with the idea of taking the boxes out to the front yard and placing huge FREE signs on them.

         I guess my longing to clear out closest and attic space signals a shift in my life. My tendency to catalogue and box away books and magazines for “future references” shifts to a need to clean, sort, and simplify. I donated hundreds of books to Goodwill during my last year of teaching. I had “open classroom” giveaway afternoons where other teachers came to my room, raided my closets and bins, labeled book shelves and tubs, and rummaged through thirty years of teaching treasures. Perhaps the purging bug began then, and now it’s continuing into my personal life. I did begin following the guideline that if I buy something, I need to donate or throw away a similar item. A new pair of shoes means I now forfeit a pair. If I succumb to the lure of a set of dishes, an older set must find a new home.

         If I have my way, some kind person will drive up during the curbside clean-up and appreciate the wonderful gift left in our front yard. A bargain hunter may snatch the magazines up to resale at a garage sale or a flea market to try to make a little profit.  I like to imagine another family picking up the boxes and discovering the world through National Geographic's perspective.

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman