My Polka-Dot Woodland Semi-Shade Garden

By popular request (Regular Contributor Debbie Whaley suggested it), I've posted here a few of the bold blossoms around my house. They're bold to peep out because we live in woodland amongst herds of deer and large swathes of shade and voles and other diggers, including something that can only be the Tunneling Yeti. And I tend to plant what I want even if it would like more sun, (these pics are prior to the arrival of the summer leaves.) My strategy yields a few courageous blooms that are much-appreciated. They're all the more admirable for venturing out under such adverse circumstances.










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Blount Wisdom on the Economy

The hilarious and wise Roy Blount, Jr. writes a don't-miss column in the Authors Guild Bulletin (he's president of that group.) His most recent entry is about the economy and writers. It applies to more people than writers.

"Look. It was imprudent of us, in the first place, to become authors....For 33 years I have been a freelance writer, literally never knowing where my next dollar is coming from, even when I knew from whence it was supposed to have come three or four months ago....But I know this: Authors have been scared before, and not deterred."

That's the key strategy idea here: "NOT DETERRED." And that definitely applies to all of us.



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Bringing Home the Mastiff Puppy

The new puppy arrived at our house yesterday. What does this have to do with bold?

Well, Husband Bob is extremely bold to take on this dog. She--Aura--is a sweet soft, though rather large, mastiff puppy now. She'll become a 140 pound animal, a Boerboel, bred as a guard dog. Already, at about four months old, she's over sixty pounds and hyperalert.

Bob likes big, challenging dogs from faraway places. He already has a Kangal dog, Kaya, a Turkish mastiff-type, a strong-willed fellow who outweighs me.

Last night, little Aura met big Kaya for the first time. The puppy rushed up to the big guy. Kaya, on a leash, stayed cool but had a fiercely interested look in his eye. Aura (gutsy puppy) would back off a little but then dash forward again. I think we're all going to get along fine. In the meantime, it's quite a household adventure.








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Sky-Diving In Without a Laptop

When I got to my office today, I discovered that I'd left home the cord that goes between my laptop and the power strip-- called a power supply? or battery pack or something like that. And of course the battery in the machine was out of juice. And I had appointments etc. and no time to get back home.

So, I turned my attention, in my non-appointment time, to doing everything in my office that could be done without my computer. By 6 o'clock I'd finished my taxes and filed receipts going back to October. And paid some bills. I could have put these off a bit longer. But, laptopless, I was forced to face them. Not such a bad thing.

And my desktop, the upper surface of my physical desk is clean, except for a few notes and a Fresca can.

This is the third time I've left that cord in the wrong place. And I've gotten a lot done every time. So maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. Sort of like getting pushed out of the plane when it's time to make your first parachute jump. Ordinarily I don't like that kind of help, but I did do this to myself. So I can't complain.

(Note: Sky-diving is one thing I declined to do even back in my more reckless years. Parasailing twice around Puerto Vallarta Harbor is as close as I ever want to come. I got the second trip around for free because there was difficulty getting me down, and when I finally skidded in for a landing, I came to a halt lying across a sunbathing gentlemen who had seen me approaching in the last seconds and desperately tried to get out of my way.)

(Note 2: My process in writing novels is very much the same as that used in this post. Start off with a missing cord and wind up in Puerta Vallarta. I like that.)




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The Creative Unconscious

I sat down this morning to start proofreading my novel and wound up making substantial and marvelous changes to the opening. (Some might not call these substantial since the events didn’t change, but I do: the emotion became clearer and stronger.)

This reminds me once again: it’s not only our will and resolve and conscious minds with the capacity be bold. The unconscious can at the most unexpected times kick in with some pretty cheeky ideas as well. Thank God! I’d hate to think I was on this job entirely on my own.





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In Bold Chase of Dad

A man whose father left him as a baby decided he wanted to find out about his father and where he'd gone. After decades and networks of research and with the help of some DNA detective work, he learned at the age of 82 what he wanted to know.

This story, "DNA Reveals Story of Dad's Disappearance," was in my local paper, the News & Observer, yesterday--written, as it happens, by my sister-in-law, Ruth Sheehan.

The story got an enormous outrageous shocking number of hits.

I wonder if it was because DNA and genealogy are hot topics. Or because the story of a guy who kept on looking is inspiring. ('Course, Ruth's a really good writer, it could've been entirely that.)

Whatever else the attraction, I'm pretty sure that the story of someone keeping on--for more than six decades, even into old age--and succeeding is always a hot topic.





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A Passion for Mastiffs

A big piece of the boldness equation is going full-tilt after what draws you, what you care about.

Saturday night my dear old friend Susie came to dinner; we had not seen each other in 41 years. Until our mid-teens, we lived one door away from each other, and had played together from my earliest memory. Then she moved.

The Internet (with the assistance of my brother Harry) reconnected us. She lives only three hours away, and she was traveling with four Tibetan mastiffs.

Turns out that she, Susie Ochsenbein, has a passion for these huge beautiful dogs and has traveled over much of the world showing, judging, visiting, and studying them. She's a global expert on these animals. And has 13 of her own. That's pretty close to an actual ton of live dog.

The one I got to meet was a sweet-tempered, quiet girl with a gorgeous fluffy coat, as they all seem to have. She's only a year old and about the size of a very large bulldog.

What strikes me even more than the wonder of these handsome dogs is Susie's devotion to them, her knowledge and her passion. I love to see anyone seize life that way; and that's what I think is happening when we follow our true and abiding interests.

It's especially nice when it's my old pal.



From a Joseph Campbell interview with Bill Moyers: "...If you do follow your bliss you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living. When you can see that, you begin to meet people who are in your field of bliss, and they open doors to you. I say, follow your bliss and don't be afraid, and doors will open where you didn't know they were going to be."






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"Bold, Persistent Experimentation"

A Newsweek article, "America's New Shrink", on Obama said that his model is FDR (we all knew that), who based his New Deal on (here's the juicy item): faith in "bold, persistent experimentation."

I love the phrase: bold, persistent experimentation. And I too have faith in that method. It's so often the basis for revising a manuscript. I'll know from feedback that there's some problem I need to solve. But usually if a reader offers a prescription for solving the problem, it doesn't quite work. So I sit and experiment -- on and on -- and then try the results on that reader again. And if the problem isn't solved, then back to work on it again.

Sort of like Thomas Edison's famous approach to invention: keep changing the recipe, and if that doesn't work then change it again, thousands of times.

It's a pretty good strategy. And all three ideas in this mantra are crucial: bold, persistent, experimentation.





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The Indiscreet Novelist

Philip Roth's birthday was noted on Garrison Keillor's almanac, and included a choice bit of wisdom that should urge us all to boldness. Note that Roth is the novelist who reached his first fame with Portnoy's Complaint (1969), about a man obsessed with sex.

Roth is quoted as saying: "I cannot and do not live in the world of discretion, not as a writer, anyway. I would prefer to, I assure you -- it would make life easier. But discretion is, unfortunately, not for novelists."



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Cleaning the Fish Tank

I did something this morning that I've been telling myself I needed to do for weeks, perhaps months. Cleaned the aquarium. This involves a siphon and a tube that runs over the side and into a bucket. It vacuums up goldfish waste. What a surprise that I don't get around to it too often.

But every time I've walked up or down the stairs in recent weeks, I've looked at that tank and thought: Gotta do that!

Bold would be to do it when it first came to mind,when it was first needed. At the same time, what a nice feeling that I get to walk upstairs tonight and congratulate myself on having gotten it done.

I dare you to tackle one of your own fish-tank-type chores.




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Family History Mania Update

I just put in the mail the family history I threw together over five intense days; sent it to my Mom for her birthday. Now I feel like I finished exams, even more so than I do when finishing the draft of a book.

I worked on this little 30 page item like a madwoman. It's the story of my mother's father's family. It's no dissertation; I used mainly secondary sources and included stories that have been handed down, and a file of old clippings and notes that others had amassed, and internet sources, such as websites done by other people chasing Tuckers and Woffords, and ancestry archives.

I did write one email to someone who'd done a Tucker site, asking him a question about a man named John Tucker who was in Virginia or Maryland in about 1750. Turned out the wife of the man at that website is my second cousin. Astounding to all concerned! She and I are both descended from the son of a Civil War captain who died at the Battle of Second Manassas at the time that his son, our most recent ancestor, was two years old.

The impact of this frenzied chronology exercise on me is that I learned in a gut way how hard life used to be, how hard it was until fairly recent decades. I knew intellectually, of course. But now I feel it. I think it burned up more boldness just to live daily life not so very long ago.

For one thing, I discovered that my generation is the first in this side of my family not to go to war. For hundreds of years on end, the men fought and the women usually had six or nine babies. A lot of those babies died. And the men so often died early, leaving the women with all those kids.

This is such old news. But it feels new whenever it strikes emotionally.

I'm glad I get to use my store of courage for edgy writing and such, not, as one of my foremothers did, by driving a covered wagon across three states with six small daughters in tow after her husband disappeared. This sort of thing can easily put problems that occur at a desk into perspective.










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The Boldest Business

I'm alarmed and saddened by the ongoing disaster in the newspaper industry.

Yesterday was a sort of Black Monday here in Raleigh, another long list of very good reporters and editors got their pink slips at The News & Observer. In the last few weeks, one major American paper has died and another has cut back to a very trimmed-down online existence. Newspapers' very continuation is threatened.

I'm frightened by the thought of an America without serious daily news reporting. Imagine what some of our sneakier administrations would have gotten away with if no one were looking. Blogging, as we now know it, is not enough. Blogging is rarely more than comments on recycled news. And the advertising on blogs will not support the kind of news gathering operation that is adequate to covering what's going on. Who knows when that revenue rise, if ever? Our country can't go a minute without reporters.

Reporting is the bold business of poking into places that often tell you to stay out. We need that as much as we need police and firemen and a whole lot of other basic services.

I'm hoping someone will come up with a bold solution fast to SAVE THE NEWSPAPERS.






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Following a Mania

For the last three days, I've worked enormous numbers of hours on an unlikely-for-me project: a bit of genealogy that I'm turning into a riveting story of one line of my family: the Tuckers and Woffords. Months ago my mother gave me a folder about her father's family, a bunch of bits and pieces, and said, "Here you take this." So I decided to flesh it out, and finally got serious on Saturday and am trying to get it ready to mail to Mom in time for her 87th b'day this weekend.

Inevitably, answering a few questions led me to a few more questions and I took the research back 200 more years, into the late 1500s in England--and quite a number of juicy details. Now I see why people do this. It satisfies the lifelong need created by reading Nancy Drews.

Joseph Campbell advises: "Follow your bliss." I take that to mean being really committed to the pursuuits that are really important to me; and I've structured my life to be able to do that. But this has a sudden fire to it that says: Do this now! Don't stop! Don't eat! It's exciting. And, as of this moment, exhausting.

Have you had this experience? And did it involve chasing ancestors? I'm more measured about writing books and articles, I've been doing it so long. It's nice to feel this kind of fire. Wipe-out refreshing.



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Nature Setting a Good Example

Here are a few more blossoms to remind you to spring forth with your own brilliant creations.

Even though the climate might create some obstacles.

Years ago, I said to my therapist about the market for literary novels: "you don't know what's it's like, it's working in a cage with a tiger." (Not the most apt comparison, but the basic idea is: difficult situation.)

He said: "How much good is it going to do you to spend your time watching the tiger?"

So I'm keeping an eye on the flowers, as I work.








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The Blooming Season

Spring is without question the boldest time of year, sending tender shoots and delicate flowers up into iffy weather. March is a bit like a writer sending out a manuscript, or anyone who's hunting for a new job in a tough economy.

As T.S. Eliot wrote in "The Waste Land" about the cruelly unpredictable and lovely April: spring does the bold work of "breeding/
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing/
Memory and desire, stirring/
Dull roots with spring rain."

If daisies and such can keep dusting off their dull roots, venturing upward and blossoming, so can we. Consider letting the flowers you see today inspire and re-encourage you. Even if the sky is overcast.

(Full disclosure: these were shot in May--in the mountains of Mexico at the spa Rancho La Puerta--but I think they still make my point.)










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Transgressive Writing

Because I (and others) consider my novel-in-progress to be a transgressive book involving transgressive sex, I was very struck when I received a comment about this sort of thing in an email conversation with my friend George. (I should mention that George, a visual artist and poet, doesn't like capital letters.)

"i consider (Updike) to be one of those who substantiate my idea that the theme for 20th century art is transgression.....perhaps it is always the operant theme....for success."

As Burger King ads have argued, "Sometimes you've gotta break the rules."

Two thoughts of my own on this subject:
*First know the rules and then break them, as needed, for good reasons. To be worthwhile the breakage must accomplish something.
*Know that there are likely to be be some costs involved.

I'm hoping that useful transgression will also be a theme of the early twenty-first century.



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Cheeky Georgia O'Keefe and Friend

If there were ever a person who went her own way, it was the famously abrupt Georgia O'Keefe.

The Smithsonian Journeys blog has a charming story about an encounter with the painter: "The Day I Met Georgia O'Keefe."

The boldest individual involved is the author who tells of the day she approached O'Keefe's house in Abiquiu, New Mexico, carrying a handful of wilted lilacs. Many a bold individual would have dropped the lilies and run.





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Show Up, Speak Out

When I started my first full-time job after college as a news reporter, I met at the NC Legislature a red-headed woman who was always there working on behalf of good causes. The League of Women Voters is the one I recall from back then, 39 years ago. Her name was Betty Ann Knudsen, and she kept on and on and on with her efforts.

This morning I saw by chance the Facebook page of documentary moviemaker Erica Rothman that a movie has been made about Knudsen: Show Up, Speak Out Perfect title, perfect person to represent that philosophy.

Here's the promo: "Betty Ann Knudsen was born six years after women gained the right to vote. Her parents were staunchly-conservative Republicans but she grew up to become a liberal Democrat, a feminist, and one of the most effective grassroots organizers in North Carolina. She was the first female head of the Wake County Commission; ran for the office of NC Secretary of State in 1984; and traveled all over North Carolina training and mentoring hundreds of women who later ran and won public office or political appointments. In 2008 she earned the Order of the Long Leaf Pine, the highest civilian honor in North Carolina, recognizing a lifetime of extraordinary service to the state. This film is a document and a tribute to her many accomplishments." www.mygalaxycinema.com

The premiere of this movie from Vivian Bowman, who teaches at Duke's Center for Documentary Studies, is at Galaxy Cinema in Cary, NC, on Monday, March 16,from 7:30 to 9 p.m.

Brava, Betty Ann Knudsen! And those who document her accomplishments.

Being Scared of Something Small

I went to a birthday party this weekend where the adult being so honored didn't want to come into the house and greet the waiting party. And he knew this get-together was going to happen. So he stood around in the driveway, then on the porch, for quite a while. The buffet spread was out--and he was still not in. Finally he made the leap, came through the door.

The problem was: he just doesn't like the moment of coming into a party and greeting people. Really, really doesn't like it. Once he's inside, he's fine.

My point: everybody I've ever known has had some some phobia, some oddly particular thing they're unreasonably spooked by. I don't much care for millipedes, power saws, or used bandaids. Maybe we all choose a hook or two to hang death anxiety on, or performance anxiety.

My philosophy: tolerate those quirks in myself and others. They don't constitute the whole picture; for example, this particular birthday boy is overall a pretty gutsy person. Maybe the odd and intense hangup keeps the real fear--from our precarious and finite position on the planet--handily bound up in a place where it doesn't much get in the way.



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To Twitter Boldly?

Just when I get blogging down and have ever-so-confusedly waded into Facebook, here comes the rolling thunder of Twitter. It has been around. But never so publicly and famously as in recent weeks, or so it seems to me.

Months ago I made some move to sign up for it, but have done nothing with it.

Then just in the last few weeks, I read a large feature on it in New York magazine. And someone running a boat near that miraculous New York plane crash in the Hudson saw what was happening and, of all things, tweeted about it. Legislators were twittering from the floor of Congress while they listened to Obama give a live speech in front of them. And Jon Stewart did a snarky riff, "Twitter Frenzy", on his Daily Show; seems he thinks it's dumb. "This new technology sounds adorable!...I have no idea how it works or why it is."
.
The whole idea is sorta like this: you text-message a friend list a thought that can run up to 140 characters.

But today I learned about something going on on Twitter that I want in on. But jeez, I'm tired of these time-consuming new systems cropping up. However, I may have to learn the art of tweeting. Because there's an item going around called Queryfail; agents and editors are posting bits from bad query letters they've received (w/o any names.) A lot of readers are saying that seeing these errors is teaching them how to do it right. So that's a valuable resource. And I suppose I need to jump in. See you there. I guess.








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Four Tips for Getting Rid of Shame

Dealing with feelings of shame can be divided into steps that help mightily to defuse the whole miserable state of mind.

This thinking comes from a book noted in an earlier post here: Brene Brown's I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn't): Telling the Truth about Perfectionism, Inadequacy, and Power. It's quite a good and useful book.

One of her techniques is "practicing critical awareness," which is looking hard at the trigger for the shame. Here's her procedure:

1. "Contextualize (I see the big picture)" This means noticing how economic, social, and political forces are involved in the situation. Doesn't mean to shift the responsibility for solving a problem, but it does take the edge off the shame.

2. "Normalize (I'm not the only one)" If you're not the only one, then there's less basis for feelings of personally inadequacy.

3. "Demystify (I'll share what I know with others)" Talk about the problem. And ask questions to get the info that will help. It may turn out several others in the neighborhood are keeping the same dark secret. We can help each other, or at least enjoy the company of people who understand.


One other tidbit of wisdom from this source: When other people say dumb things about the painful situation, don't counterattack. "That doesn't get us anywhere." Instead say something on the order of: that hurt my feelings. "It seems counterintuitive, but telling someone how we feel takes more courage and is often more powerful than verbally attacking them."

A small personal application: I've railed repeatedly here about some bad treatment at the "hands" of a health insurance company. One part of this reaction is that I'm ashamed that I can be taken advantage of. One of my buried assumptions is that part of my job in life is to have the savvy to keep this from happening. When I fail at this, I feel like a schlump.

Looking at this with the Brene Brown system:
1. The context: the entire healthcare payment system is in severe disrepair, to the point of national crisis. One piece of that is that our medicine is so advanced that we have tests and treatment that almost no one can afford. That's the big picture.
2. God knows, I'm not the only one.
3. I'm sure talking about it.

I still have the stupid assumption that I should be capable of throwing over such problems, and I haven't. But this critical thinking process does take away some of the feeling of failure, embarrassment and shame. And getting rid of those probably makes me more capable of dealing with a problem.













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Boldly Sexual

Bold isn't just for the boardroom. One can also take this admirable quality home to bed. Here's an encouraging item that showed on up on my Compuserve screen yesterday: "Six Habits of Highly Sexual Women."

It includes such wisdom as:

"Carnal Custom #2: Let Loose

... Sex is not rocket science. It won't cure cancer or promote world peace, or change lives. So getting all worked up and stressed out about it makes about as much sense as worrying that you're not eating your chocolate cake right...."





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I'm Giving Some New Workshops

It's once again time for a bit of boldly shameless self-promotion. Here's my flyer for one Saturday afternoon class and three separate Friday lunchtime sessions. If the Raleigh-Chapel Hill area is in reach for you, I hope you'll consider coming to one or more:


I'm offering a new half-day workshop for anyone interested in writing. This class -- and the lunch-time meetings described below -- are based on my experience as author of books from three major publishers, as well as articles for many national magazines and most of the major American newspapers.

Dig A Book Idea Out of What You Already Know

This four-hour Saturday class will focus on nonfiction books, and include:

*How to look at your expertise (hobbyist or pro) as a book resource
*How to formulate and develop an idea
*Basics of the book proposal
*Info on resources to help you proceed

The class will be held at my home (in the woods beside a pond) near Jordan Lake in Chatham County.

March 21 1-5 p.m. $65
Maximum of 20 participants



-- and--



Writing Business Lunches

During the month of March, I’m holding three Friday lunch-time meetings in my downtown Raleigh office, with up to seven participants in each. You’re invited to attend any one or two, or all three.

The topics:

The business of writing nonfiction books. March 13

Literary agents March 20

Getting started writing a novel March 27

Fee: $35 each

The format: Each of these is entirely devoted to a question-and-answer session. Bring your questions on the particular topic, and I’ll do my best to answer them on the spot. Other participants often have useful info to contribute as well.

The time: 12:30 to 1:30. Bring your sack lunch and drink with you, if you like. The office is smallish. It'll be cosy and companionable, which makes networking even easier.

Location: 410 Morson Street in Raleigh’s Oakwood.

My background: I'm author of the novels Sister India (a New York Times Notable Book) and Revelation, co-author of the nonfiction book The Healing Power of Doing Good (a Literary Guild pick). I also wrote a book on Tanner Companies and the Doncaster clothing company. My books have been published in five countries. I've written for More Magazine, Travel+Leisure, Ms. Magazine, Family Circle, Cosmopolitan, etc., as well as The New York Times, The Washington Post and most of the major American newspapers. I spent a semester teaching fiction at Duke as a Scholar-in-Residence, and given classes or talks at locations including the NC Center for the Advancement of Teaching, Auburn Seminary in New York, Banaras Hindu University in India, Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church, Rancho La Puerta in Mexico, and others.

For more information on my writing and my manuscript consultation services for writers, please visit my website.

The fine print: For the Saturday workshop, I need check and confirmation in advance. I refund for cancellations only if I have someone waiting for the space. For the lunch sessions, I need confirmation in advance, and require payment for any cancellations later than 24 hours before the meeting. Do ask me, if you have any questions.

If you'd like to sign up now for the Saturday workshop, please mail your contact info and check to me at 410 Morson St., Raleigh, NC 27601. For the lunches, simply email me your confirmation. And if none of this fits into your schedule, do come back to this blog and visit again.

Thanks. I hope this is useful to you and/or any of your writer friends or students.

Peggy






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Extravagant, Generous, Bold Art

If you've ever felt you wasted time by writing ten pages -- or a whole lot more -- that didn't work, take a look at the extravagant generosity of this Zen-type artist and you may feel better.

Scott Wade reproduces Old Masters and does his own original work IN DUST on the windows of cars. Here's a man who recognizes the dust-to-dust situation we're in. I couldn't do it. I'm still working on what Ernest Becker in The Denial of Death refers to as my "immortality project." Making my permanent mark.

Though I'm not going to take up dust art (so much like the sand mandalas that Buddhist monks make and then destroy), I do find it curiously refreshing to look at what this man does and to marvel.





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A French Town with a Vivid Imagination

Don't miss the dazzling photos of the Menton Lemon Festival on the blog called Imagine from floral designer Kenju.

It sounds garish, but it's not: a house-sized Taj Mahal made of lemons and oranges, a castle, a towering lemon girl, and more.

I'd never heard of Menton or its lemon festival. And now I must go there. Il faux que j'y aille. (Je pense que c'est pres d'exact.) ). Menton is a beach town in France that has five times won an award for best garden city in that country of the fleur-de-lys. A beach, flowers, citrus fruit, and they speak French. It's now on my list.



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