Godwinks

I never heard the term before yesterday, but now I'm completely charmed by the idea. "Godwinks" (on Beliefnet.com) encourage courage. How could they not?



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Live at "Dancing Like the Stars"

On Sunday afternoon, Ruth Sheehan, one of my intrepid sisters-in-law, engaged in a public dance competition at the N.C. State Fairgrounds on behalf of children with special needs and the honor of the newspaper industry. She and her dance partner won!

That's her in the pink sequins, as photographed on my phone by her nine year old son Tucker who was sitting beside me at Dancing Like The Stars. She's dancing with Dick Hensley, a dance instructor who performed in the movie Dirty Dancing.

Ruth is a columnist at Raleigh's News & Observer, and she was competing against TV people (accustomed to performing in person). Each of the media contestants had a professional dance partner who rehearsed with her/him for six weeks. Then they all got dolled up like those on the TV show, "Dancing With the Stars" and each couple danced for the live audience.

People could vote on-line, after watching a video of a rehearsal, or at the performance. Votes cost $10 for the first and $1 for any additional. The money went to the Bubel/Aiken Foundation, for programs that promote inclusion of kids with special needs. The show was emceed by Clay Aiken's mother, Faye Parker. (Clay's from here in Raleigh.)

Ruth and Dick got the most votes. No way could a devout newspaper person let a broadcaster win. Never mind that one of them was a former Washington Redskins cheerleader and Ruth has long been known for bumping into doorjambs and the edges of things. But you can't beat a crusading columnist like her; as one of the judges, a waggish Simon Cowell wannabe, said: Ruth, your dancing, like your column was all over the place and leaning a little to the left.

I don't know how much money the children's foundation took in, but I'm guessing it was a fair amount. Because the competition was seriously bold. One 6'5" sportscaster did "the worm" across the stage and jumped over his partner. The dancers went all out, and what a lot of fun it was.... There's nothing like getting fiercely competitive and bold in pink sequins--and for a good cause.




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Dancing Like The Stars

The dancer in pink took action beyond-bold for a good cause on Sunday. More to come on this story tomorrow.




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Never Shake a Baby

Seems like it's either Pickle Day or Fork Lift Operator Month or some such, every time the calendar page turns over.

This month is one we might take notice of: National Child Abuse Prevention Month. Here's something you can do in observance that is so easy it barely counts as bold. But it's important: Go to the site of the Child Abuse Prevention Center and take the Never-Shake-A-Baby pledge, on the right below the kiddo with enormous eyes and a pacifier. Raising awareness of the danger will help to educate and pacify babysitters and parents who have run out of patience.

Here are a few other actions you can take. Intervening in child abuse is truly bold.



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Raising Children Who Shine

"I want their lives to always feel full and purpose-driven. I want to watch them as they continue to sprout new feathers on their wings and as they share their gifts with the world." From the blog of regular contributor Debbie, who writes about her "four angel daughters."

You have to see the photos of "Little Miss Fierce," Angel Daughter Number Four dancing hip-hop. They're as good as hearing the beat of the music itself. You'll want to dance to your own lively beat.

And don't miss what their momma has to say. On an earlier post, she talks about the kind of encouragement she received:

"My dad is a tough man, but he is also an incredible cheerleader. In so many ways, I am who I am because of him. A realist who chooses to believe that we can all do great things.

Strive to do something great. Not perfect, just fantastic."




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Stand By Someone

Take some inspiration from street musicians around the world who "Play for Change." Listen to "Stand By Me." Click on the big screen-filling picture of Grandpa Elliott in New Orleans.



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Small Changes in Routine

Blogging outdoors in my bathrobe, sitting in my car in our driveway, where reception is better than inside. The air is room-temp, so I've left the car door open; birds are happily chirtling in the trees, nice liquid-y sounds. A horse fly madly buzzs against the inside of windshield, trying to get out.

Even small changes in routine are great for the creativity and sense of adventure: I've gotten a lot of pretty good work done this morning. Now off to the writers' group I've been meeting with for 26 years: some good things to be said for routine as well.



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"Two Roads Diverged in a Yellow Wood..."

Today I'm in the particular swivet known as "Which Should I Work On?". I'm talking about my own writing, not clients' projects which follow a more easily-decided schedule. I have two unfinished projects of my own (more than that actually, but two that are extremely timely) and last night at dinner with another novelist I got great encouragement to focus on the one I hadn't been thinking about lately.

"Do you know how much money you can get for a YA paranormal romance these days?" she said. She described this time as the "golden age" of Young Adult books. I happen to have a draft of such a novel.

So after dinner I went searching round the house for it. Found it in only the second room I tried. It was under the guest room bed. The colleague I had lunch with today responded to this story with, "Talk about hiding money under the mattress."

We'll see.

I started reading my old draft last night, thought it pretty good, though I know it's going to need a stronger ending. This afternoon my ambition is to make good progress on some book or another, and not fritter too much of my time asking myself which one.



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Anger Strategy

How does one boldly handle irritability that arises for no particular reason or at least has nothing to do with the innocents who cross one's path?

I have an idea that total withholding of the snappishness that longs to surface isn't good for the relationships. But neither is the full-strength snapping.

Intellectually I know that the right thing is to say: I'm in an irritable mood. Then the other person can proceed forewarned. But that doesn't feel particularly satisfying. In fact, the prospect annoys me more.

Exercise is always good, gardening in particular. But I need to work just now.

Looking out my office window to the deck of the house door next has possibilities. The 46 year-old woman who lived there died two weeks ago of pancreatic cancer. As I sit here, that approach is starting to work.



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Let Your Mind Rock and Roll

Today I'm fulminating primarily on the Mystic-Lit blog. The title is "The Greasy Elements Approach to Writing." Doesn't that title entice you?

The basic idea is to improve creativity by visually dislodging and breaking up the frozen clusters of words and images so that they interact in new ways. Doing Word Jumbles is my laboratory for this technique.

While you're over at Mystic Lit, do check out some of the other essays on writing. A lot of interesting writers have contributed there, including Greta James who is a regular visitor here.



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An Experiment to Try

One day my husband was at our house when the woman who cleans for us every other Thursday arrived. She does a superb job, and so often adds special personal touches.

Bob inquired about her way of going about her work that led to such results. She said her approach is to "do it with love."

Try that for a bold experiment: try doing today's work or some routine task with love.

Any interesting results?





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Win a Sister India and Turn Up the Music

...by supporting the Brussels Chamber Orchestra's visit to North Carolina this summer.

This is one bold project that is being launched from the office next to mine.

First an intro: The BCO is a group of 12 remarkable twenty-something musicians from 6 countries, based in Brussels, Belgium. Playing without a conductor, they are a marvel to watch as well as to listen to. Their first concert during the upcoming Raleigh visit will be on July 2 at Burning Coal Theatre, when they'll perform Vivaldi's Four Seasons

The group gets around; they have toured in Japan, Mexico, France, Germany, Spain, Italy, etc., and played for royals. Next week they're on in Venice.

Here's the NC connection: my office partner, writer-and-artist Carrie Knowles is the mother of BCO violist Neil Leiter. She raised the money last year for the group's first performance in Raleigh (they were originally coming to this country for the first time to perform in a festival in the Hamptons.) In North Carolina, their concerts were well-attended and well-reviewed.

Carrie is turning the Raleigh event into an international music festival called Cross Currents And she's doing it, slowly but successfully, during this on-the-way-out recession.

To encourage this valuable, large, and bold undertaking, I will send an inscribed (to whomever you wish) copy of my novel Sister India to the first person and the 20th person to send a check of any size to support this project. Make it out to Friends of Brussels Chamber Orchestra. And send it to: Carrie Knowles, Brussels Chamber Orchestra, 410 Morson St., Raleigh, NC 27601. Contributions are tax-deductible

Many thanks!






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Courage Within a Group

How to encourage courage is a field of research that surely has potential for enormous impact on the world, and on individual lives. I just ran across some interesting findings on the Leading With Lift blog on "Where is the Courage in Organizations." As a nearly-lifelong freelancer who comes from a family of DIY-ers, I've often felt that organizations actively discourage courage: policies and systems make speedy action and change of course harder than they are for an individual.

But this study by Ryan Quinn and Monica Worline comes up with a couple of ideas that in the abstract seem like no-brainers, yet as I looked at the applications, I could see tremendous possibilities. For people within a team to be more courageous, it's important to:
*have good relationships with other people inside and outside the organization
*have information that argues for their action being brave rather than foolhardy.

An example: brave people who crashed their own flight on 9/11 first talked with family members by cell phone. They knew from those people on the ground what their situation was, and they had their relationships to help them bear up.

Even working alone, I find that making a call like that helps me. An embarrassingly petty example: when I sat down to write my first assignment for Travel & Leisure magazine, I called my friend novelist and screenwriter Randee Russell, who said: you can do it. Then I put on fresh lipstick, called her back again and reported this progress. She said again: you can do it. Then I did.






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Red Hair, Blue Jello: Are You Hungry or Tired?

Monday afternoon and night, I was very tired. So I ate a lot. Not exactly logical or a solution to the problem, but overeating felt like the right thing to do.

I've long known that a gutsy move would be to learn how to figure out which bell is ringing and answer that one: i.e., sleep when I'm tired, eat when I'm hungry, that sort of thing.

Instead what happens is, if I feel a shortage of any of the basics, the solution seems to be to do anything that feels good. At another moment this week when I was impatient to get an email that hadn't arrived, I bid on a pair of gold driving loafers on Ebay. And years ago, when I'd been waiting for months for a visa to spend a winter in India researching my novel, I dealt with the problem by putting a very red rinse on my hair.

So this morning, I googled "needs confusion." What I mostly found had a punctuation mark in between: "...needs. Confusion..." I did learn some interesting facts: that blue food is a natural hunger suppressant. (I should tell this to the folks who run my regular lunch spot, the K&W cafeteria, who frequently have blue Jello in the salad section at the front of the line.) I also learned that others have failed to find an easy solution. From the blue-Jello blog: "It would have been helpful to receive a user manual with your body. I would have settled for one page, hand written or even just an outline."

The answer seems to be:
*pay attention to the signals.
*And then, the tricky part: do something relevant to the actual problem or lack. That takes discipline, which is one of the often-unrecognized and very important pieces of serious and effective boldness. I like the leaping component better.

There's also a parallel problem to this needs-confusion that I run across fairly regularly: when work has to be finished on deadline, I sometimes vigorously set to work at breakfingers-speed on something else. As if some free-floating sense of urgency were all that was needed. More on this one later.





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Britain's Got Talent and So Do You

Want to see a thrilling eruption of talent, to watch someone boldly and delightedly living and enjoying her big dream?

Go hear Susan Boyle sing. It's a moment of glory on Britain's Got Talent. It even warmed the heart of Simon Cowell. Very moving and inspiring. It'll make you want to cheerfully belt out your song, whatever it is.




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Family Holiday Dinner

Easter was at my house yesterday. Relatives drove three hours each way to eat lunch with us. Since I'm famously not a cook, expectations were low on their side and anticipatory tension notable on mine.

I served heated up take-out from a Whole Foods grocery, and Husband Bob, who is more of a cook than I, supervised the heating up.

It turned out great. People ate like sawmill workers, and asked where to buy the frizzled beans, (no kidding, that's their real name.)

I've decided to change from viewing myself as a non-cook, to being a great take-out shopper. It puts a whole new light on the process.



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Turkey Town

The pig spa that I wrote about here a couple of weeks ago has been rivaled in real life.

A travel story in my local paper had turned out to be an April Fool’s trick on us readers. I believed it—and then posted here about the bold deception. The story described an inn where the happy guest can pat pigs, eat a pork diet, and have beauty treatments involving bacon fat.

So yesterday I was flipping through an old Guideposts magazine and came upon: Cornwell’s Turkeyville! This time the place is for real.

On a patch of farmland north of Marshall, Michigan, is a destination dedicated to pleasures provided by the turkey. In addition to the restaurant that cooks 20,000 birds a year, there’s a dinner theatre, an ice cream parlor offering Turkey Trax ice cream, a gift shop, a playground, and a turkey pen. Writer Mary Lou Carney noted some of the kinds of turkey sandwiches available, including buttered turkey, turkey salad, sloppy tom, smoked turkey. Or you could dig into turkey stir fry.

The only thing missing here was a turkey skin conditioner. At least it wasn’t noted in the article.

My point (aside from wonderment at the existence of such a place): If turkey’s your thing, don’t hold back. If you want to build a pig spa, do it. No joke. The world may very well beat a path to your door.





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Dealing with Bad Publicity

A fellow I know just got a blast of highly personal, heavily negative national publicity. It's the kind of scrutiny of a person that borders on inhuman, every aspect of his life touched on.

It must take big-time courage to show up at work, at lunch, at the gym, or wherever, after that kind of exposure. I'm not even going to say who or where the article was, so as not to further spread the stories. The fact that the writer said some good things doesn't really help a lot; it gives an air of credibility and balance and makes the watching of the man seem more unrelenting.

Unless you've sponsored a genocide, or at least committed a crime, I don't think this kind of treatment is warranted. Some arguable business decisions don't merit such an attack.

And I am someone who has spent decades as a reporter writing for magazines and newspapers, and who relishes reading the trashiest of gossip publications. So maybe I have a double standard for people I know and like. Or maybe I have a double standard for movie stars and other people. Likely both are true. Even so, this particularly brutal extreme close-up shocks me. I wouldn't want my own life treated this way. There aren't many people, if any, who'd look spotless in that kind of light.

Again: the guy is super-bold to keep showing up and making the effort.



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Singing a Song from the Unconscious

Skiing on a glacier in Austria some years ago on slopes (catwalks) far beyond my ability, I realized that I had been humming the same tune over and over all day. When I finally noticed I was doing it, I immediately recognized it: "Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad Wolf?"

It was true that I'd been scared--from mild to wild--all day. This was back in my mostly-travel-writing days when I made a long-running specialty of writing ski stories for beginners and bad skiers. It tickled me that I was unconsciously singing the message from myself that I was trying to ignore.

Since then, I've realized many times that I was mindlessly humming something that was terribly appropriate to the moment: "I've Got a Never-Ending Love For You," and "Release Me" (think Engelbert Humperdinck), for example.

Yesterday, I noted that I'd been humming all day. What was the tune? "This Little Light of Mine, I'm Going to Let It Shine." What could be more appropriate for a writer's theme song?

So what's your theme song today?

Could be it would work better to pick one, instead of letting the song pick me. But even when the song simply arises, it's useful information, always good to know what I'm feeling.




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College Admissions Mistakes

A guy I know is in the midst of his first personal encounter with injustice. He's a superbly accomplished and bright student and he didn't get into the schools he wanted. College admissions problems have happened to quite a number of excellent students this year.

It's not fair. He's right about that.

And he's angry. Which is healthy, of course. As long as that dies down and he replaces it with vigorous action to make the most of the situation he has now.

It's not easy to be heroic when the difficulty is not life-and-death, but instead disappointment and having to plow on anyway. Plowing on doesn't get the kind of credit and appreciation that it's due.

I've often thought that so-called "loss of innocence" has nothing to do with sex or with seeing the seamy side of life. It comes from personal experience of something going wrong that can't be fixed. When that happens, it becomes necessary to take a new road. And after that, one is more watchful, less reflexively sure that things will turn out "right."

I wish the guy had gotten into the schools he wanted. I hope he will gather the courage to design his own new road and make the most of his new knowledge.


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The Solitary Freelance Writer

Have I mentioned? On the morning of April 18, I'll be giving the keynote for the Triangle Area Freelancers conference on "Seven Secrets of Freelancing I Wish I'd Known from the Start." If you're in central North Carolina, I hope you'll come. I also wish there had been a TAF years ago when I was getting started in magazines and newspapers.

I remember when the feeling of solitude started to feel heavy at some point in the second half of my first year. I decided that maybe going out to lunch would help, but couldn't find anybody loose to join me that day. So I went by myself to a semi-hip restaurant where they had booths placed in odd settings within the restaurant. Mine, as it happened, was in a jail cell. So I sat there by myself looking through actual bars.

Nobody needs networking more than writers, for information, contacts, and mental health.



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Garrison Keillor Gets Sexy

The ever-cheeky Garrison Keillor of Prairie Home Companion set a new standard for home-spun boldness Saturday. If you missed it, do go listen to his song "Fatherhood", a bebopping rendition of the heroic journey of a sperm. It's in Segment 3, just after "Bailout Boogie."

(I'd offer a sample of those daring lines, but ever since I paid for the right to quote from "Puff the Magic Dragon" in my first novel Revelation, I've been careful to stay out of song lyrics.)




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Unhappy Puppy

While I was planting verbena this afternoon, our new puppy Aura had her first encounter with the electric fence of her little corral. I'd never been around when such a thing happened and I was almost as upset as she was.

She yowled, then ran, but wasn't sure where to run. Didn't know what was safe.

I couldn't stand it. I got her out of there and spent the rest of my gardening time trying to stop her from walking on the columbine and eating the daffodil fronds.

I don't know whether I'm too soft-hearted to train a dog or a child, or simply too squeamish: unwilling to suffer myself in seeing them hurt.

I do know that Aura, shocked, dramatically illustrated how all kinds of creatures tend to behave after a broadside. Not sure what to trust, desperate to avoid further hurt. It's hard at such moments -- takes boldness -- to figure out what caused the pain and not blame it on any and every thing in sight.




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The Snake in My Head

A garter snake is on the list of entities I've always thought of as ridiculously harmless. Like dandelions, cotton candy, soap bubbles, toads, puppies, primary colors, large print, milkshakes, and the board game Candyland.

So today I was weeding the periwinkle and startled a two-and-a-half foot striped snake sunning his/herself on the ledge at the back of the bed. I jumped back. The snake fell still, head raised in my direction. I yelled for Bob. He came out and told me it was not a copperhead at all, instead a garter snake. First time I realized I'd never seen one. It didn't look like bubbles or cotton candy at all. More like, say, a pygmy rattler. But I let him/her alone and went back to my gardening -- at a little distance. Next time I looked the snake was gone.

I didn't want to make a pet of the creature, but neither did I have any sense of lingering alarm. Hours later near dusk, I grabbed a handful of weeds and dead leaves that squirmed in my hand. I gasped and tossed it, then discovered that the live thing was a toad that was hopping away from me at top toad speed.

What interests most me about all this is that the mini-burst of adrenaline on grabbing the toad probably would not have happened it not been for the earlier moment of alarm over the snake. Without even realizing it, I was expecting to stumble onto trouble.

This secondary reaction made me wonder what other and larger ways I may have conditioned myself to unnecessary wariness.




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The Courage to Relax

The ability to relax is underrated as an act of courage. I tend to have tense shoulders all the time. And I've just now come from the dentist where I tend to turn into a 5 foot 8 inch steel plank. A snootful of nitrous helps, but still I can be fairly tense.

Somehow tight muscles feel like the proper state of readiness for everything, good or bad. Never mind that I almost never resort to a physical solution to problems. I don't actually engage in fight or flight. Instead, I ponder, revise, negotiate, think, chat. These activities don't require the muscle tone of a shark.

Nevertheless, the habit persists. This morning at my dentist's I made a point of using not just the nitrous but as much muscle-loosening as I could muster. I made my hands feel heavy. It felt good.

And I have an idea I could probably think better with loose muscles. If you happen to have any studies or experiences that demonstrate that, I'd love to know. I fear it's going to take all the king's horses to get my shoulders to move to a different position on a regular basis.





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Pig Spa

I'm ever scanning the world for sterling examples of boldness to report on, and I found some true moxie yesterday in my local News & Observer.

The story by Kathleen Purvis was about Hog Heaven, an inn and spa devoted to an appreciation of pork. "'I figured if California could have the Napa Valley, maybe it was time for the South to celebrate what makes us truly happy,'" owner Sue Trotter says. "'And no place appreciates bacon like the South.'"

This North Carolina mini-resort doesn't stop with a pork-heavy menu and opportunities to spend time with the cute little piglets: "...You can relax under a cooling raw-bacon eye mask while you get a facial with high-quality leaf lard, prized for its antioxidant content."

I was worrying a bit about how comfortable it would be to eat pork while patting a pig; especially since I liked the hogs that wandered the streets near where I lived in India, found them surprisingly personable. And then of course I came to the final punch line: April Fool's Day. I'd been completely suckered up to that very last sentence.

What was bold was that story. And the photograph that went with it.





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The Confident Camel

I picked out this camel pin (for Husband Bob to give me) just because I liked it. Probably also at the back of my mind was the fact that when I was a kid my mother smoked three packs a day of unfiltered Camels and I have good memories of the image.
I also think my camel is an excellent reminder of persistence and steady long haul effort. The camel tends to get where she's going. She also knows her worth; if you've ever been around camels (as I was now and again in India), then you know there's no loftier manner in the animal queendom.

So I've been wearing her image on a pocketbook, the equivalent of heart-on-sleeve for visibility. I like the combo of confident persistence and regal bearing. And as you can see, my camel is smokin'!!!




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