Out of My Mind for Ten Years

In September of 2010, the Portage Daily Graphic/Central Plains Herald Leader advertised for freelance writers. What I really wanted was a regular column. I even had a name: “Out of My Mind.”

In one of my boldest acts of reckless abandon, I called and requested an appointment with then-editor, Elisha Dacey. Seated in her office and trying not to reveal my nerves, I told her I wanted to write a weekly “slice of life” column. Some humour, some faith. Hopefully a little of both sprinkled into each. I gave her three samples.

She hired me.

I’ve lost track of how many editors have come and gone in these ten years, but readers have remained loyal. One of the funniest stories occurred about a year into my column-writing, when I went to vote on Election day. I gave the poll clerk my name.

“Are you the Terrie Todd who writes for the Graphic?” She peered at me over her glasses.

“Yes.”

She frowned a bit. “Huh. I thought you’d be shorter.”

I assured her I would try to sound taller from then on.

Over the years, several (well, okay, maybe two) readers have asked when I was going to put my columns into a book. I figured a ten-year anniversary would be a good time. Trouble is, ten years’ worth of columns would be as thick as a phone book (for those of you old enough to remember phone books.)

Good old Microsoft to the rescue. I created a table in MS Word and listed every column by title, the date it ran, and its theme. Then I gave each a score from zero to five. If a column promoted a local event long past, it received an automatic zero. My personal favourites, and the ones that generated emails or won awards, scored fives.

When all 460 columns were entered, I instructed my computer to pull all the fives to the top and voila! 145 columns, the perfect length for a book. My first column made the cut, as did my farewell column when “Out of My Mind” got cancelled in 2016…as well as the return column when I was invited back fourteen months later. (If you’ve already calculated that ten years of weekly columns would total 520, not 460, the cancellation explains that.)

Once I eliminated the also-rans scoring less than five, I told my computer to sort the winning columns by theme. Then it was a matter of copying and pasting each column into its category and creating a table of contents. Now, readers can easily find stories under a given topic or season.

This book signing will look different.

Then the pandemic complicated things. The book had a bit of a false launch. Now that September is here, the official month of the tenth anniversary, it’s party time. Since Covid-19 is preventing us from serving food, I’ll be giving away a $40 gift certificate from The Cheeky Baker and the winner can place their own order. If you are a local reader, I hope you’ll come celebrate with me, purchase the book for $20—or one for each person on your Christmas list. Or just say hello and enter the draw. Saturday, September 12, between 10:00 and 1:00 at the Portage Regional Library.

I deeply appreciate your kindness and tolerance. A column should offer value to readers and I’ve often fallen short. But if I’ve managed to make you smile or even laugh out loud, if you’ve discovered a tear on your cheek or have thought a new thought, I’m happy.

You’re teaching me the discipline of deadlines, the wonder of word counts, and the extraordinary grace and humour of hometown folk.

Happy Anniversary to us!

 

Confessions of a Columnist

Five years ago this week, I walked into the offices of the Portage Daily Graphic for an appointment with then-editor, Elisha Dacey. Mustering my bravest, most confident façade, I asked her for a regular column and gave her three samples of the type of pieces I had in mind. She gave me a contract on the spot and I walked home with a goofy smile on my face and fear in my heart. But I haven’t missed a deadline yet.

In honor of this monumental anniversary, I thought I’d offer a gift. But first, a few highlights from the last five years.

Funniest comment from a reader

Part of the fun of writing a column is meeting readers in the community. I met one such woman at the voting polls one year. When I told her my name, she told me she reads my column. “I thought you were shorter,” she said.

I assured her I would try to sound taller in the future.

Most common assumption

Readers often assume I work at the Graphic headquarters. After my initial interview, I did not actually step into their offices again until the paper celebrated its 120th birthday in its newly remodeled facility this past June. My columns are emailed from home each week. During the past five years, I’ve managed to burn through five or six editors without having met most of them face to face!

Mistaken identity

My sister Shanon often gets mistaken for me by readers who recognize her from my photo in the paper, leading me to believe she looks more like me than I do. The icing on the cake came the day a reader approached me and said, “So I was reading your sister’s column the other day…”

Worst accusation

I can’t say I’ve received much in the way of negative criticism, which can only mean either nobody’s reading or I’m not writing anything controversial enough. One reader, however, called me “afraid of Science” after I expressed concern over children being taught the theory of evolution as fact.

Greatest challenge

The hardest thing about column-writing is coming up with a topic each week. It only gets harder as time goes by and you’ve already covered everything you care to cover. I really respect my fellow columnists who stay within a theme, the way all proper columnists should. Mine are all over the place and still I rack my brain! My best attempt at nailing down a theme was “Faith and Humour.” I hope each piece includes one or the other—and sometimes both. For the next five years, I’m open to suggestions!

Quitting

I quit this column nearly every week —in my mind. “Enough already,” I tell myself. “Nobody’s reading, why are you bothering with this drivel? You’re trying to be Dave Barry, Ann Voskamp, and Max Lucado all rolled into one and it’s never going to happen. After this column, let’s call it finished.”

But, like a bad habit, the next week finds me pecking away at the keyboard again.

Greatest reward

On those occasions when a reader takes the time to share a word of appreciation for a column that encouraged them on their faith journey or made them chuckle, you can bet I cherish their words and save them forever.

A gift for you

Here’s your chance to win your choice of a Chicken Soup for the Soul book. O Canada! was published in 2010 and Inspiration for Nurses in 2015. As well as 100 stories by other contributors, each book contains a story that originated right here in my column. If you’d like to win a free signed copy, email me at terriejtodd@gmail.com by Sunday, September 27 at 3:00 pm with the words “Book Draw” in the subject line. If your name is drawn, I will contact you, ask which book you prefer, and see that you receive it.

Thanks for reading!

3 Time Saving Tips (for those with better things to do...)

My mother thinks I’m too busy.

“You’re not 35 anymore,” she tells me. This from the woman who will never see 80 again, yet charges around like she’s forever on a mission—probably because she is. 

“If I don’t do stuff, I’ll have to give up my column,” I tell her. “I won’t have anything to write about.”

It’s true. If I had the courage, I’d take up skydiving or bungee jumping just to get a column out of it. If I had the money, I’d fly around the world and deliver my adventures to readers 500 words at a time. If I had the energy, I’d volunteer for every opportunity that presents itself and tell you how it goes. If I had the talent, I’d star in a blockbuster movie and regale you with the ups and downs of fame. If I had a willing partner, I’d learn ballroom dancing and let you vicariously trip the lights fantastic as you read all about it.

But there’s only so much I can say about preparing council agendas at City Hall or cooking vegan meals or performing yardwork or taking afternoon naps or pressing buttons on a computer in my church’s tech room. Readers are tired of my old car and my new couch and my weird health issues. You’ve heard enough about my kids and grandkids, at least until one of them wins an Olympic medal or pulls off a bank heist or walks on Mars—all of which I consider highly unlikely.

So I have to keep doing stuff and then writing about it.

Mom’s right when she says I’m not 35. I also require ridiculous amounts of sleep, which bugs me. Life’s too short to spend sleeping. When I see people capable of staying up until midnight, I feel jealous. Especially if they waste those golden moments watching TV or playing video games. Oh, the books I could read. The books I could write!

As someone who once held down three part-time jobs plus college courses with three children still at home, I’ve learned a thing or two about juggling time. So I’m offering three tips for those with a household to run but better things to do.

                                         

#1.  Make your Calendar and your To-Do List the same thing.

I’m a compulsive list-maker. But making a list on random slips of paper or the back of your hand can be counterproductive. I’m old-school enough to use a spiral bound daily planner. It goes everywhere I go and I write everything in it: appointments, meetings, due dates for bills, tasks for the day, when to put the recycling out, what’s for supper and what books I’ve read. These planners have settled arguments and answered unsolved riddles as well.

#2.  Do housework on a schedule, not for company.

I spent twelve years cleaning other people’s homes and quickly learned how demoralizing it can be to clean hard all day only to return to your own dirty house. So once a day, I walk through my home and put away anything out of place. I wash sheets and towels simply because it’s Monday. If it’s Thursday, it means the clothes are getting washed. I clean floors and bathrooms on a regular schedule, with some flexibility. After a while, it becomes a routine and you don’t get unbearably behind.

#3.  Cook in marathons.

To be fair, every day felt like a cooking marathon when the kids lived with us. But now that we’re back to two, I don’t cook every day. I make a large pot of soup on the weekend that provides lunch all week. I double-up on most meals so we have extra for the next day or for the freezer. Sometimes I make two or three dishes simultaneously, not bothering to wash the food processor, measuring cups, or spatulas between recipes. Hasn’t killed us yet. The kitchen might look like a disaster zone afterwards, but it only needs cleaning once.

If you already follow these tips, I apologize for taking still more of your precious time. If you don’t, I hope you find it helpful.

A funny thing happened on my way to this column

Folks ask me if it’s hard to come up with something to write each week. Writer Gene Fowler said, “Writing is easy: All you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead.”

I don’t stare at blank paper, but I’ve certainly spent large chunks of my life staring at a blank computer screen. Can’t say I’ve produced blood yet, but if I ever do, you can be sure I’ll write about it. 

My path to a weekly column typically looks a bit like this:

It’s Saturday, 8:00 a.m. and I still haven’t got an inkling what next week’s column is going to say, even though I need to submit it on Monday. I really must park my butt in the chair and write. And I will, just as soon as I’m showered and dressed. But wait. I haven’t worked out in a while. I should really do that today. 

Forty minutes later, I drag my sweaty, sticky self into the shower. Thirty minutes after that, I’m clean, dressed, and in a better frame of mind. Time to write my column. 

Maybe I’ll just make a cup of tea first. When I fill the kettle, I empty the water jug (we use distilled). Better start the distiller while the kettle boils. On my way to the distiller, I notice our dehumidifier is full. Can’t have the basement getting all humid and dank. I wonder briefly if I could pour the dehumidifier water into the distiller, thereby turning moisture from the air into our drinking water. I dismiss the thought.

When I enter the bathroom to empty the dehumidifier, I remember I had intended to give the sink a lick and a promise, so I stop to do that. I hear the tea kettle click off in the kitchen and quickly fill the distiller and reassemble the dehumidifier. But as I walk past our bedroom, I notice the bed’s still unmade. Can’t have that. What if my mother-in-law from South Dakota pops in unannounced?

By the time I’ve made the bed, the water in the kettle has cooled. I start it again. While I wait, I’ll quickly check Facebook. You know, just in case any important messages await me. Sure enough, there is a message. I’ll just answer it in a jiff, then log out. But wait. There’s a little quiz that will tell me which Broadway musical best describes my life. I get “Sound of Music.” How stupid. This leads me to another quiz, “What celebrity were you in a previous life?” I’m not falling for that time suckage. I’ll log out just as soon as I take a quick peek at the cutest kitten videos ever. And copy the recipe for healthy brownies somebody posted. And take the quiz that answers the burning question, “What career should you have?” 

I get “writer.”

My kettle has cooled again.

While I wait, I find myself a snack. This time, I mean business. With a cup of tea in one hand and a bowl of almonds in the other, I head back to my computer. 

I’ll just check email first, real quick. You know, just in case. Besides, I can’t really write and eat at the same time. Sure enough, there are emails to answer.

Well, would you look at that? It’s lunch time. Which reminds me. If I don’t make a big pot of soup, there’ll be nothing for lunch all week. By the time the soup’s done, I’m pooped and need a nap before supper.

It’s Saturday, 10:00 p.m. At some point during the day, I’ve somehow managed to hammer out 600 words of mindless drivel. I reward myself with a good book and go to bed, knowing I’ll continue to periodically tweak my column right up until I hit “send” on Monday afternoon.

Easy as pie.