Oh, what a gorgeous job Ethelie has done, getting this site set up for all you angels! Such wonderful, brilliant writers you are, too! I’m just thrilled to be here.
Lida
Ethelie is still in the Infirmary, recovering from her “accident” and from laudanum-related “exhaustion.” She has asked me to take the reigns in her absence. (She also requested laudanum! In retrospect, I am not sure it was wise to slip some in to her, but the old dear seemed so happy. Oh, bother!)
But enough about Ethelie! You want to know about me! I’m Lida, international star of stage and screen, performing before the crowned heads of Europe (and the rest of their bodies, as well; don’t get the wrong idea!). I’m an adventuress of the first rank, and own a gorgeous little zeppelin that I use to travel the world, seeking excitement, fortune, and love.
I am also a fabulously prolific writer.
“But Lida,” I hear you cry. “How can someone as lovely and exciting and well-traveled as you be a writer? How do you have the time and the motivation to cram so much incredibleness into one mortal lifetime?”
A fine question, indeed! And one that I myself might have asked, just a few short years ago, when I was merely a scandal-haunted actress in a seedy theater on the other side of the tracks. Like all of you, I dreamed of someday writing my own plays, for other dissolute actresses to act out. I dreamed of writing novels, of poems, of philosophical treatises. Yet no matter how diligently I tried, I could not bring myself to apply my pen to paper.
One day, a strange little man accosted me in my dressing room, and with a curious mix of threats and enticements, taught me how to write and prosper. This was none other than Gustav; and I am here today to begin sharing with you some of the precious lessons Gustav taught me, as well as other bits of wisdom I’ve gleaned on my own.
For example! Mere days before Ethelie launched this lovely web-site, I was preparing myself to write. I’ve learned to minimize distractions before beginning a session, and the most pressing distraction was my insatiable desire for Phở. Inexplicably, the Directorate headquarters does not have a phở shop, so I hopped into my zeppelin and made my way to Vietnam, where I spent several delightful weeks exploring the countryside, and sampling the country’s most delicious offerings. What a marvelous country! A feast for all (and I do mean all!) of the senses. I did not return until I was thoroughly sated.
“Ah,” you cry, like a VerbHound that’s caught the scent of an avoidant writer. “So you were distracted! So you ran away to avoid your writing!” Quite to the contrary! Ethelie shared with you the secret of the Five-Minute Miracle last week; I was able to sneak in dozens of Miracles every day, and finished a novel, a one-act play, and outlined a political biography I’ve been hired to ghost-write. It is possible, lovelies! I will explain how.
Your Mission
At this point, I believe, I am supposed to invite you to select your Mission for the week. But instead I think I will take a page out of Ethelie’s book and play Stern: your Mission this week is to do one Five-Minute Miracle each day, faithfully! Or Else.
Oh, bother! I’m no good at being stern. Won’t you try a Miracle today?
