Over the past five years, I’ve traveled a lot to visit schools in far-flung places: Oklahoma, California, Texas, Florida, Michigan, Virginia, South Carolina, Massachusetts, etc. Mostly I stay in the NY/NJ area. But regardless, the basic fact remains: I’m not at home. I’m often alone, away from my family, unwrapping a plastic cup from inside a plastic wrapper. Sigh.
One of life’s little puzzles is how to properly tip the chambermaid. For the longest time, I was never quite sure. So I faked it, without much rhyme or reason. Last year I met author Kate Klise in a hotel in Rye, NY. We share the same tour administrator, the awesome Kerri Kunkel McPhail, who organizes and coordinates our school visits in the greater Westchester area and beyond. It’s a rare treat to meet real, live authors, especially since we spend most of our working lives alone, tapping out words on a keyboard. I quickly learned Kate is a hugely talented author, dedicated and wise to the ways of the world, and a kind person, too. I liked her a lot.
Sitting in the lobby, we hit upon the topic of hotel living. I must have said something about tipping the chambermaid, because Kate gave me a suggestion that I’ve used in every hotel stay since.
I leave $5 each morning. In the past, I’d often waited for the end of my stay, but I realized that it might cause an unfair distribution. A different hotel maid might be working that day. Better to leave a smaller amount daily. Five seems like the right number to me, though I didn’t arrive at that figure scientifically. Here’s where Kate told me her approach. She said, “I always leave a little thank you note.”
“You do?”
“Yes. It’s such a tough job — think about it. I feel like the least I can do is just write a short note of appreciation.”
Nice, right?
It immediately made sense to me. After all, that’s all anybody ever wants in this life. Some basic recognition, a note of appreciation. The tip is one thing, certainly, but taking one minute for a quick note brings it to a higher level.
Now every morning in a hotel before I’m rushing out for a day’s work, I quickly grab a piece of paper, write “THANK YOU!” or some variation, and leave a tip.
And every time, I feel good about leaving behind a little extra kindness.
And last week, for the first time, I got a response . . . with three exclamation marks.
So yesterday I was in the locker room at the gym, doing my thing, when I overheard a conversation between two ladies. One said to the other, "I don't know much about orchestras or anything, but you need 2nd violins. You can't have an orchestra without them. I mean, not everyone can be 1st violin. I mean, I can do ballet, but I'll never be a ballerina, you know?" There was a little back and forth about what it means to be honest with yourself.
And I never really chime in on random conversations. It's not the way I roll. But I did this time. I said, "You sound like wise women." And I got to meet both of the ladies and found out what the root of the problem really was, a work matter. One of the ladies had been marginalized at work and it was very painful for her. I wished her luck in the weeks to come.
So here's why I lost sleep over this last night. It bugged me. It bugged me because while I said they were wise, upon reflection [read: tossing and turning] I thought about what it means to give up being 1st violin. I mean her comment is at once wise and also sad and in some ways inspirational. I mean, on one hand, what's wrong with being 2nd violin? The world needs you. On the other, there is something so sad about realizing that you'll never be 1st violin. And then there is the wisdom in knowing where you are in the spectrum.
Two things came to mind. I don't believe anyone would ever say this to a child. I mean, it's more of a middle age sentiment, isn't it? And lastly, what about when the 1st violin is sick? And the star can't go on? There's always the 2nd violin and the understudy.
I can't describe how much I've thought about this random encounter and this seemingly innocuous sentiment.
When I was a little girl, I took piano lessons at a convent outside of Chicago. [yes, with the penguins] And across the hall from my first teacher, Sister Miriam Rose, Sister Mary Ricardo gave violin lessons. You could always tell when Sister Ricardo was at work, teaching her students a new passage. Her music was magic. My dad also talked about playing the violin when he was young. And even performed for us when we were older. Maybe Dad and the sisters were why I thought so much about it.
The other thing the Webelf has been working on for a while is this: It's the area of the site that was formerly known as Exclusive, and is now Cool Stuff & Things http://www.neilgaiman.com/exclusive/. And it went live today. It ought to change content when you refresh it...
(It's Cool Stuff & Things because that fits into the same area as Exclusive Material used to.)
The Webelf did a great job -- and it's the direction we're taking the site right now, more visually interesting and making it easier to find things and also allowing magical randomness to show people fun things they might otherwise not see. Address applause or grumbles to her.
It also looks like we're going to have some fun and unique Stardust movie material up here very soon.
The Mystery Aide has gone back to start setting up an LA office, to which people will be able to send things, thus taking the strain off DreamHaven Books (who don't really mind acting as a maildrop but sometimes I don't pick up mail from there for months). All should be revealed next week.
My 2 year old son loves "Crazy Hair" (thank you), the poem and real crazy hair. I know a book was in the works with art by Dave McKean, any word on a release date?
Thanks for your time!
Eric!
I'm not quite sure when it will be released, but I can tell you that Dave McKean delivered the final double page spread today.... which means the book is now in the production line-up. It looks like this:
(Click on the picture to be able to see it at a reasonable size.)
The moment I know the release date for Crazy Hair, I'll post it here.
...
I'd vaguely noticed the "Overheard in..." phenomenon over the last year or so, where those of us who enjoy earwigging send in to websites the best or strangest things we've overheard on the streets or off them, and recently googled to see how many there were out there. I discovered that there are plenty of them, of variable quality. Minneapolis is one of my favourites. Here are a few of the better ones...
http://www.overheardinnewyork.com/
http://www.overheardinminneapolis.com/
http://www.overheardinpittsburgh.com/
http://www.overheardinlondon.co.uk/
http://www.overheardintheoffice.com/
http://www.overheardindublin.com/ (a bit less scribbled-in-the -notebook than the rest of them)
http://overheardinphilly.blogspot.com/ (now up for sale, for those Philadelphians who want it to continue)
http://www.overheardinathens.com/ (not the one in Greece).
One of life’s little puzzles is how to properly tip the chambermaid. For the longest time, I was never quite sure. So I faked it, without much rhyme or reason. Last year I met author Kate Klise in a hotel in Rye, NY. We share the same tour administrator, the awesome Kerri Kunkel McPhail, who organizes and coordinates our school visits in the greater Westchester area and beyond. It’s a rare treat to meet real, live authors, especially since we spend most of our working lives alone, tapping out words on a keyboard. I quickly learned Kate is a hugely talented author, dedicated and wise to the ways of the world, and a kind person, too. I liked her a lot.
“You do?”
