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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Thursday, April 16, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
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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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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Tuesday, April 14, 2009
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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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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Monday, April 13, 2009
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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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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Saturday, April 11, 2009
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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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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Thursday, April 09, 2009
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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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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Wednesday, April 08, 2009
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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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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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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Tuesday, April 07, 2009
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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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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Monday, April 06, 2009
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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(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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Sunday, April 05, 2009
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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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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Saturday, April 04, 2009
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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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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Friday, April 03, 2009
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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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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Wednesday, April 01, 2009
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 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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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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Tuesday, March 31, 2009
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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Monday, March 30, 2009
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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"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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Sunday, March 29, 2009
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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Friday, March 27, 2009
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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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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Thursday, March 26, 2009
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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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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Tuesday, March 24, 2009
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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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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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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Friday, March 20, 2009
"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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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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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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Thursday, March 19, 2009
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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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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Wednesday, March 18, 2009
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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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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Tuesday, March 17, 2009
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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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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Monday, March 16, 2009
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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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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Friday, March 13, 2009
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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Thursday, March 12, 2009
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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Tuesday, March 10, 2009
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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"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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Monday, March 09, 2009
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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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.
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.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
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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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.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Friday, March 06, 2009
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.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
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.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
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.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
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.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
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...."
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
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...."
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
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
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
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
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Monday, March 02, 2009
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.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
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.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
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.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
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.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
"Painting into Light"
"Painting into Light" is an art exhibition at Guilford College in Greensboro, a one-man show by my friend George Wingate.
Thursday night Bob and I went to the campus to hear the artist talk about his work. George was his intriguingly digressive, imaginative, thoughtful self, before a packed SRO house. I didn't take notes and couldn't begin to quote from his outpourings.
But there was a line on the wall in his artist's statement that is well worth passing on:
"It took a long time to discover that one can't make a career out of being somebody else. I still have to fight being somebody else. The artist even has to fight to not be what he/she was yesterday."
George was in high school with Husband Bob, which would make him approximately 67 years old. And he has been a full-time artist for decades, with his work on the cover of American Artist and well and lengthily reviewed in the New York Times. He's still engaged in a daily wrestle.
If you are too, you're in good company.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Thursday night Bob and I went to the campus to hear the artist talk about his work. George was his intriguingly digressive, imaginative, thoughtful self, before a packed SRO house. I didn't take notes and couldn't begin to quote from his outpourings.
But there was a line on the wall in his artist's statement that is well worth passing on:
"It took a long time to discover that one can't make a career out of being somebody else. I still have to fight being somebody else. The artist even has to fight to not be what he/she was yesterday."
George was in high school with Husband Bob, which would make him approximately 67 years old. And he has been a full-time artist for decades, with his work on the cover of American Artist and well and lengthily reviewed in the New York Times. He's still engaged in a daily wrestle.
If you are too, you're in good company.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Fueling Fiction With Gossip
A bit of frivolity that I've recently found to help my writing: stopping now and then to glance at one of my favorite gossip blogs.
Lately while working on revisions on my novel, I've found myself fairly frequently taking five-minute breaks to look at Jossip or Gawker, two of my vices.
On the face of it, this seems like a stupid thing to do. But the kind of revising I'm doing is tackling one small knotty problem after another. And about every third one, I hit a wall. So I indulge in a few minutes of gossip. And often I've come back to my novel with a new perspective on what I'm writing. In a few instances, a good specific usable idea has come to me while I indulged in media-celebrity gossip.
I'd been allowing myself to do this recently with good results. And then by chance, while looking for an endorsable link on procrastination, I found and linked to a site yesterday that makes a pitch for this kind of small break. I'm not the only one to find that it works. So here's the link again on what's billed here as "work avoidance behavior," even though it's not.
BTW, it's not gossip websites I'm necessarily promoting, instead the fact that small seemingly self-indulgent and procrastinatory breaks can be very productive.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Lately while working on revisions on my novel, I've found myself fairly frequently taking five-minute breaks to look at Jossip or Gawker, two of my vices.
On the face of it, this seems like a stupid thing to do. But the kind of revising I'm doing is tackling one small knotty problem after another. And about every third one, I hit a wall. So I indulge in a few minutes of gossip. And often I've come back to my novel with a new perspective on what I'm writing. In a few instances, a good specific usable idea has come to me while I indulged in media-celebrity gossip.
I'd been allowing myself to do this recently with good results. And then by chance, while looking for an endorsable link on procrastination, I found and linked to a site yesterday that makes a pitch for this kind of small break. I'm not the only one to find that it works. So here's the link again on what's billed here as "work avoidance behavior," even though it's not.
BTW, it's not gossip websites I'm necessarily promoting, instead the fact that small seemingly self-indulgent and procrastinatory breaks can be very productive.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Best Business Practice
What's the best bold action I could take today? That's the question I just now asked myself. First, not getting into a dither about what constitutes best.
Then what?
Here's what it comes to: working on my novel, as I did yesterday and the day before.... Each day briefly unnerving to begin. Sometimes that sensation is no more than a hair wide. Sometimes larger. But always within twenty minutes the creaky hesitation goes away, and I wonder how I could have ever felt it and am sure that I'll never encounter it again.
Likely that companionable moment of unease is just a signal that this is what's important for me to do. Higher stakes than running a load of laundry or getting together the numbers for my taxes. So maybe I should welcome that friendly agitating signal.
And now to my novel, my dharma... I doubt if any of us have to search very long to discover the real work of the day.
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Then what?
Here's what it comes to: working on my novel, as I did yesterday and the day before.... Each day briefly unnerving to begin. Sometimes that sensation is no more than a hair wide. Sometimes larger. But always within twenty minutes the creaky hesitation goes away, and I wonder how I could have ever felt it and am sure that I'll never encounter it again.
Likely that companionable moment of unease is just a signal that this is what's important for me to do. Higher stakes than running a load of laundry or getting together the numbers for my taxes. So maybe I should welcome that friendly agitating signal.
And now to my novel, my dharma... I doubt if any of us have to search very long to discover the real work of the day.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Not Bold: Identity Theft
Someone extremely close to me just had his identity stolen, his email hacked into, and his address list dunned for money. The message that went out to his whole list claimed he was stranded in London and so please wire $4,000 immediately.
One good clue: The letter-writer clearly wasn't entirely at home in English.
Then a second identity theft message said: this is not a scam, I'm seriously in trouble, send the money.
Well, I can't imagine anyone did--though he did get thoughtful responses from his friends, patients, children, ex-wife, and someone he hadn't seen since high school.
Turns out that the creative letter-writer is in Nigeria with a bank account at the ready in London. (Why is Nigeria the world scamming-business headquarters, when there are a number of other places with some dishonest people who need money? See L.A. Times profile "Nigerian Cyber Scammers." For a non-cyber view: a friend of mine grew up in Nigeria and still misses the country. see her wonderful book: The Gods of Noonday, which is one of the most beautiful tributes to a river I've ever read.)
Here is my message to these multi-national Nigeria-based Keystone Krooks: Get your own identity and then maybe some money will follow. Be yourself. Long-term, it's a much better strategy.
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One good clue: The letter-writer clearly wasn't entirely at home in English.
Then a second identity theft message said: this is not a scam, I'm seriously in trouble, send the money.
Well, I can't imagine anyone did--though he did get thoughtful responses from his friends, patients, children, ex-wife, and someone he hadn't seen since high school.
Turns out that the creative letter-writer is in Nigeria with a bank account at the ready in London. (Why is Nigeria the world scamming-business headquarters, when there are a number of other places with some dishonest people who need money? See L.A. Times profile "Nigerian Cyber Scammers." For a non-cyber view: a friend of mine grew up in Nigeria and still misses the country. see her wonderful book: The Gods of Noonday, which is one of the most beautiful tributes to a river I've ever read.)
Here is my message to these multi-national Nigeria-based Keystone Krooks: Get your own identity and then maybe some money will follow. Be yourself. Long-term, it's a much better strategy.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
House Guest Heroism
I think it takes a fair amount of the ordinary daily kind of boldness to be or to host a house guest.
Not everyone feels that way, I know. (My office partner, for one, is ever keeping visiting actors or musicians or exchange students for weeks and months at a time without even thinking to mention it at lunch.)
But for those several of us who retain any shred of worry about being fully known or (worse for me) the possibility of imposing on someone, the house guest business does take some gathering of nerve.
The last couple of days, Husband Bob's best buddy from his youth has been visiting from Wenham, Mass. A painter, George Wingate has an art show at nearby Guilford College. Hanging with George has been delightful. Imagine if the hyper-articulate and thoughtful Wm. Buckley had been liberal and better-looking. George is fascinating to talk with. I was very sorry to see him go.
At the same time, I always feel that I, and anyone faced with the state of my towels and Bob's insistence on reusing tea leaves, deserve some sort of human relations merit badge. It's good practice for larger negotiations.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Not everyone feels that way, I know. (My office partner, for one, is ever keeping visiting actors or musicians or exchange students for weeks and months at a time without even thinking to mention it at lunch.)
But for those several of us who retain any shred of worry about being fully known or (worse for me) the possibility of imposing on someone, the house guest business does take some gathering of nerve.
The last couple of days, Husband Bob's best buddy from his youth has been visiting from Wenham, Mass. A painter, George Wingate has an art show at nearby Guilford College. Hanging with George has been delightful. Imagine if the hyper-articulate and thoughtful Wm. Buckley had been liberal and better-looking. George is fascinating to talk with. I was very sorry to see him go.
At the same time, I always feel that I, and anyone faced with the state of my towels and Bob's insistence on reusing tea leaves, deserve some sort of human relations merit badge. It's good practice for larger negotiations.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Blood Done Sign My Name
Saturday night I went to see a one-man play based on the nonfiction book Blood Done Sign My Name, the story of a racial conflict and killing of a young black man in Oxford, NC, back when author Tim Tyson was living there as a young son of a liberal minister.
His book, a bestseller that deserves to be, began when he, now an American studies historian at Duke, went back to Oxford to do some research and dig into what happened.
First example of boldness: to go to the small town where the white accused was acquitted and interview people about what they saw. (The anger at Tyson is still hot.)
Second example of boldness: to be the liberal minister (Vernon Tyson) holding a bi-racial service in a town divided by segregation and violence.
Third example of boldness: to live day to day as the mother of young black men, as does psalmist Mary D. Williams who sang gospel for the play. To be one of any minority group that isn't surprised by injustice.
Seeing the play made me think again about my rage when Blue Cross treated me unfairly recently. That kind of treatment I think of as simply unacceptable; as my mother used to say to her misbehaving children, "We're not going to have that." (That edict extended even to having diseases and once to having a hurricane.) My daily expectation is that injustice is behavior that "will not do."
For myself, I unthinkingly expect straight-up dealings because I have always been so privileged. Any exception to that is a shocking event.
And yet I grew up seeing and not-seeing and being a silent part of that kind of injustice during legally segregated years in Wilmington (where the racial violence occurred that makes up the last section of Blood Done Sign My Name.)
I read the book years ago, after my brother Harry read it and said: you have to read this. If you haven't already, do. And if Mike Wiley's one-man performance of 17 different roles in this story happens to play near you, be sure to see it. If you're like me, your eyes need constant re-awaking.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
His book, a bestseller that deserves to be, began when he, now an American studies historian at Duke, went back to Oxford to do some research and dig into what happened.
First example of boldness: to go to the small town where the white accused was acquitted and interview people about what they saw. (The anger at Tyson is still hot.)
Second example of boldness: to be the liberal minister (Vernon Tyson) holding a bi-racial service in a town divided by segregation and violence.
Third example of boldness: to live day to day as the mother of young black men, as does psalmist Mary D. Williams who sang gospel for the play. To be one of any minority group that isn't surprised by injustice.
Seeing the play made me think again about my rage when Blue Cross treated me unfairly recently. That kind of treatment I think of as simply unacceptable; as my mother used to say to her misbehaving children, "We're not going to have that." (That edict extended even to having diseases and once to having a hurricane.) My daily expectation is that injustice is behavior that "will not do."
For myself, I unthinkingly expect straight-up dealings because I have always been so privileged. Any exception to that is a shocking event.
And yet I grew up seeing and not-seeing and being a silent part of that kind of injustice during legally segregated years in Wilmington (where the racial violence occurred that makes up the last section of Blood Done Sign My Name.)
I read the book years ago, after my brother Harry read it and said: you have to read this. If you haven't already, do. And if Mike Wiley's one-man performance of 17 different roles in this story happens to play near you, be sure to see it. If you're like me, your eyes need constant re-awaking.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Friday, February 20, 2009
You Gotta Be Bold to Be Old
I've just come back from taking care of my mother for a couple of days after some minor surgery. I was struck once again by the courage required to face the various adventures of aging.
Mom's actually quite sturdy at 86; the stories she tells are what make me aware of the perilous nature of being old. She's developed a sort of gallows humor to deal with some of it: tells a very funny and hair-raising and sad story about going out to lunch with two friends, one with Alzheimer's and the other with emphysema, breathing oxygen from a tank.
Bottom line: while she was trying to get the forgetful one to her house, the other one started running out of oxygen, and they were still ten miles from that woman's home. So Mom drove the ten miles at enormous speed hoping that a cop would see them and help, or that they'd get there in time.
They got there in time. The friend who got the oxygen lived several more months.
You gotta be bold and tough: either to be the one who's air or mind is running out, or the one seeing her friends fall all around her. As stages of life go: it looks at least as hard as the worst of ninth grade.
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Mom's actually quite sturdy at 86; the stories she tells are what make me aware of the perilous nature of being old. She's developed a sort of gallows humor to deal with some of it: tells a very funny and hair-raising and sad story about going out to lunch with two friends, one with Alzheimer's and the other with emphysema, breathing oxygen from a tank.
Bottom line: while she was trying to get the forgetful one to her house, the other one started running out of oxygen, and they were still ten miles from that woman's home. So Mom drove the ten miles at enormous speed hoping that a cop would see them and help, or that they'd get there in time.
They got there in time. The friend who got the oxygen lived several more months.
You gotta be bold and tough: either to be the one who's air or mind is running out, or the one seeing her friends fall all around her. As stages of life go: it looks at least as hard as the worst of ninth grade.
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Wednesday, February 18, 2009
"Ordinary Courage"
A politician once told me, in talking about a panel he'd been on where some too-amazing stories were told, that he "hadn't had the opportunity to rescue any children from burning buildings lately."
Most of us haven't.
And yet, most of us do run into plenty of opportunities and needs for courage.
I just ran into a blog and website called "Ordinary Courage." I highly recommend it. Very different style than mine: Brené Brown, the head encourager there, writes with great warmth and at length, whereas I take a shorter and pithier approach to the some of the same subjects. But we share a philosophy.
From Ordinary Courage: "...speaking honestly and openly about who we and about our experiences (good and bad) is the ultimate act of courage. Heroics is often about putting your life on the line. Ordinary courage is about putting your vulnerability on the line. In today's world, that's pretty extraordinary. For me, practicing ordinary courage means telling my story with all of my heart."
Me, too.
Brown is the author of I Thought It Was Just Me , which is about shame, which can seriously get in the way of boldness.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Most of us haven't.
And yet, most of us do run into plenty of opportunities and needs for courage.
I just ran into a blog and website called "Ordinary Courage." I highly recommend it. Very different style than mine: Brené Brown, the head encourager there, writes with great warmth and at length, whereas I take a shorter and pithier approach to the some of the same subjects. But we share a philosophy.
From Ordinary Courage: "...speaking honestly and openly about who we and about our experiences (good and bad) is the ultimate act of courage. Heroics is often about putting your life on the line. Ordinary courage is about putting your vulnerability on the line. In today's world, that's pretty extraordinary. For me, practicing ordinary courage means telling my story with all of my heart."
Me, too.
Brown is the author of I Thought It Was Just Me , which is about shame, which can seriously get in the way of boldness.
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Monday, February 16, 2009
Secret of Happiness (Bold Title, Yes?)
“We act as though comfort and luxury were the chief requirements of life, when all we need to make us happy is something to be enthusiastic about.” --Charles Kingsley, nineteenth century English minister who wrote The Water-Babies: A Fairy Tale for a Land Baby, as well as being chaplain to Queen Victoria.
Quoted on The Happiness Project
(The very thought of water babies makes me both happy and enthusiastic. And I'm not even a huge fan of "cute," but I do find delightful the idea of chubby young things paddling about in exotic mysterious realms.)
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Quoted on The Happiness Project
(The very thought of water babies makes me both happy and enthusiastic. And I'm not even a huge fan of "cute," but I do find delightful the idea of chubby young things paddling about in exotic mysterious realms.)
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Deep Sea Explorer
How many women who graduated in 1955 wind up a full-half century later as National Geographic Explorer-in-Residence, a founder of a company that is designing an undersea vehicle to allow "full working access to the world's oceans?"
Often referred to as "Her Deepness," Sylvia Earle is highly likely the only one. And she is an outstanding example of BOLD. She has:
*done research 100 feet underwater while pregnant
*led an all-female group of researchers who lived underwater for two weeks (after being shut out of an earlier expedition with men because the organizers couldn't handle the coed deepsea dorm idea)
*explored sunken battleships of the South Pacific
*in 1979, "walked untethered on the sea floor at a lower depth than any living human being before or since"
*raised three children and published a dozen-plus books
If you want to make a small bold move on behalf of protecting oceans (like the Atlantic at Wrightsville Beach where I grew up): here are ten actions to choose from. Or do them all.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Often referred to as "Her Deepness," Sylvia Earle is highly likely the only one. And she is an outstanding example of BOLD. She has:
*done research 100 feet underwater while pregnant
*led an all-female group of researchers who lived underwater for two weeks (after being shut out of an earlier expedition with men because the organizers couldn't handle the coed deepsea dorm idea)
*explored sunken battleships of the South Pacific
*in 1979, "walked untethered on the sea floor at a lower depth than any living human being before or since"
*raised three children and published a dozen-plus books
If you want to make a small bold move on behalf of protecting oceans (like the Atlantic at Wrightsville Beach where I grew up): here are ten actions to choose from. Or do them all.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Hostess and Guest
My 22 year-old nephew Walker and his girlfriend Caitlin, both UNC students, came over for lunch today. She had never been to our house.
From 9:30 until 1, Bob and I madly scurried, getting ready. Mostly that meant near-renovating our house. He took more than a wheelbarrowful of papers and books out of the kitchen and den, that all might have a place to sit.
I wouldn't call it hostess anxiety, but it was definitely host-and-hostess hurryup.
And I realized that when I was that age and going to visit boyfriend's family, it never occurred to me, while obsessing over what to wear, that BF's family might be engaged in the same minor uproar.
Similarly, when I was teaching at Duke in 07, I was nervous before class fairly often, very much so at the start of the semester. When I was a student at Duke in the 60s, it never crossed my mind that a professor might be scared. What a ridiculous idea!
I find it calming now to flip the situation around, to remember that the other person may also be in a dither.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
From 9:30 until 1, Bob and I madly scurried, getting ready. Mostly that meant near-renovating our house. He took more than a wheelbarrowful of papers and books out of the kitchen and den, that all might have a place to sit.
I wouldn't call it hostess anxiety, but it was definitely host-and-hostess hurryup.
And I realized that when I was that age and going to visit boyfriend's family, it never occurred to me, while obsessing over what to wear, that BF's family might be engaged in the same minor uproar.
Similarly, when I was teaching at Duke in 07, I was nervous before class fairly often, very much so at the start of the semester. When I was a student at Duke in the 60s, it never crossed my mind that a professor might be scared. What a ridiculous idea!
I find it calming now to flip the situation around, to remember that the other person may also be in a dither.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
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