Whenever I see the word ‘Transitions” written as a single declarative blurt, my MG attuned mind slips to the ‘metalloid’ chorus of the old anime cartoon, you know the one, ‘Transformers, robots in disguise.’ (And ironically, what a transition that made into the mega movie franchise it now is!).
And I think that some of us here have a lot in common with old Optimus and his team. Most of us plod along doing our day-jobs, hiding our true calling under the veneer of nursing, or teaching, or firetrucking (okay, red monster trucking, but it doesn’t quite carry the kudos), and exploding into action when the moment, or our word processor, calls. And we do it willingly, without a thought for ourselves because it’s necessary and we’re irrepressible and the evil enemies Megarevisionoid and Firstus Drafticus threaten the stability of the world as we know it.
Because that is what we do, is it not? Make the world a better place. Or at least a nicer place. Because my world is a pretty not nice place for significant others—or even the dog— to be in until I’ve got the next 3000 words of my WIP nailed. We’re forever transitioning, too, into blogbot, salesbot, helperbot, blurbbot, paranoidbot, not to mention dadbot, husbot, diybot, poopedbot, you know the score. It’s a wonder we haven’t all seized up. But then:
“Fate rarely calls upon us at a moment of our choosing.” Optimus Prime
So maybe we should all give ourselves a little pat on the back for being multi-tasking authorbots. And perhaps we could all join in the chorus–you know the tune.
‘Scene thirteeners, heroes in disguise.’
We can save the world.