Why Create This Blog?

I've asked myself this question a number of times: why blog? For a writer, it does provide exposure and interaction with readers. It's promotional.

That's the supposed explanation.

But the fact is, I don't think that a huge percentage of people who visit here immediately rush to find one of my books. (Could be wrong, I hope so.)

I think I do this because I feel like it. It's a pulpit, a place to vent a bit, an easy outlet: no editors, no delays. I like the feeling of it.

So I tell myself, as I spend a significant amount of my work time doing this, that

1. I'm writing, and that's always a good thing
2. I may well publish some of this sometime in a collection that people will pay for, which is important since writing and consulting to writers are my "day job"
3. this fast and casual writing gives me ideas (is that true? does it really? not sure)
4. it primes the pump for work on my book (that's true for sure)
5. it does create at least some interest in my other work

But back to the main truth: I like doing it. It reminds me of what's fun about writing, which can get lost in revising for publication and all the attendant struggles. Writing itself is what inspires me to keep writing.



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Courage as a Way of Life

I hesitate to mention this, since it could easily be viewed in a "sideshow" way. However, on this occasion my better instincts are at work, and I'd like to ask you to look at this situation in an empathetic way.

Last night, as I was doing my crunches and channel surfing, I came across on The Learning Channel a documentary on a pair of conjoined twins, formerly called Siamese twins. These girls, Abby and Brittany Hensel are 15; they are two distinct personalities, two people. Each girl has a head and a face and a mind, and otherwise the two of them share one body, each with feeling on her respective side of that body.

At first glance, it didn't seem possible. After watching them being interviewed for a few minutes, my startlement wore off and they seemed to present simply another of the endless million variations on ways to be human, on how to be confident, outgoing sixteen year old girls.

One of the experts interviewed said that the singlets in the world have a couple of important things to learn from those who are conjoined. One is openness to a wider range of human differences, and the other is cooperation. Brittany and Abby have to somehow come to an agreement moment by moment about their every action, and they have to coordinate movements, each of them in charge of one arm. Even so, they manage to drive a car, type email, etc. I can barely imagine the complication and difficulty of that.

Neither they nor their parents treat them as limited. Their friends seem to see them as two regular girls. Anyone who ever felt odd in high school would have to be profoundly impressed by what these girls take on every day and treat as normal life. I'd add a third item to what I can learn, and that is courage as a way of life.



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Take Charge of Your Situation

"I once ran into a wise old friend, and he asked how I was doing.

'Fine, under the circumstances,' I replied.

He raised his eyebrows and laughed:

'What, pray tell, are you doing under there?'


What circumstances are you under? List three moves you can make to rise above those conditions?"


From Zing: Five Steps and 101 Tips for Creativity on Command by Sam Harrison


(Added thought from Peggy: when you write down what circumstances you're under, keep it short, a sentence or two. The idea is to go beyond the situation, not sink deeper into the mire of it.)




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Throw Off Minor Depression

I was in a truly shitty mood this morning: bitter, sad, angry, depressed simultaneously. (In short, visit with adult stepson did not go well.) The mood threatened to last for the rest of my life.

It lifted when I did one useful small thing that made me feel effective. All I did was drive to a Verizon store and say that two phone accessories weren't working right. One they replaced for free; the other for $16 (it hadn't come from Verizon.)

I left with working equipment and rising spirits. Not simply because I had a headset and a recharger that worked. Instead, because I'd demonstrated to myself that I could be effective, even at running a small errand that had no connection with the original problem.

That kind of remedy is always available. Maybe I'll remember it quicker, should I ever fall into such a state again.

Oh, it's good to have a blog to be able to share such wisdom!





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Brilliant Brillante Blogs

This blog has received the Brillante Award. I'm taking that to mean brilliant, and am delighted to be selected.

I'm to pass the honor on to seven other bloggers whom I find sparkling. The following are quite different from each other and all hold my attention:

The Growing Life, "Alternative productivity,anti-hacks for living"

Diva Marketing "An approach to marketing that's fun, bold, and savvy..."

Four Angels Momma: "Learning to soar with our feet on the ground."

Daily Spiritual Guide "Insights for a healthy and positive life."

The Sartorialist "Selected as on of Time magazine's top 100 design influencers."

Metaxu Cafe "A network of book and cultural blogs..."

60 going on 16 Reading and writing in the English countryside




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Go To the Trouble to Have an Adventure

A few years back I realized that I'm sometimes too lazy to do the little things that would make me more comfortable. Like get out of bed and get a quilt. Or turn on another light, or get a tool I need. Because it's just easier not to stir myself.

At that point I started telling myself: go to the trouble to get comfortable. It's really worth the effort involved.

This week I was driving home from work a little early, it was still light. Passing Jordan Lake, I realized that if I pulled over, I could inflate my kayak, which was in my trunk, and take it for a sunset spin. So what that my work clothes would get wet; they were washable.

So I took the trouble, paddled out on the glassy lake for about a half hour, and came in feeling as if I'd had a week's vacation. It had taken fifteen minutes of effort to get the boat out and pumped up. Well worth the "trouble," even for such a wee adventure. I mean to remind myself of that when I'm feeling like not bothering.




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Gandhi in the 'Hood

After almost four years in my downtown Raleigh office, I have discovered that a larger-than-life-size statue of my hero Gandhi stands in a courtyard three blocks from my desk.

Here he is, located behind The Marbles Kids Museum, the model of a man who put his boldness to good use.



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Fear and Power

The wickedly funny David Sedaris confided to People magazine recently that he'd been "here" for almost fifty years and was still afraid of everyone and everything.

An earlier People profile had suggested that he'd gotten over his fears. "An anxious child, he found an outlet for his energies in high school theater and art programs. 'I thought he'd be a normal kid eventually,' his father observes. It took a while."

In fact, Sedaris has made a career and a splendid body of work out of his anxious responses to the world. (See him on Letterman on YouTube.) Instead of wasting energy fighting himself, he uses his peculiarities, his fears as rocket fuel.

It's a strategy that came to my mind once in an unexpected way. Years ago, I found that night after night when I meditated, Gandhi would show up in my mind and say, "Play Chinese checkers." He didn't respond to questions about why.

Then one afternoon in my office I was in a terrible mood. Employing one of my standard perk-up devices, I left to wander for a bit in a nearby antiques mall. There I saw hanging on the side of a booth an old Chinese checker board, with all the dents for the marbles. A voice in my head said: "Use the obstacles to get where you're going."

At that point I remembered how the game is played. In order to move your marbles to their destination, you have to have an opponent in front of you to leapfrog over. You have to "use the obstacles to get where you're going."

And that's what Sedaris has so brilliantly done.





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Blocking Out the Consequences

"Courage is the ability to block out consequences and do what you think you have to do."
Glenn Fitzpatrick, Esquire general
manager, in an essay on his life with Lou
Gehrig's disease

Gandhi said something similar: forget the fruits of your labors, simply do the work and then step back.

How to step back? Not so easy. But I find that the intention itself takes me a long way toward that goal.

What this all translates to for me is: writing without worrying about whether the piece is going to sell. Curiously, satisfyingly, I find writing that way has turned out more easily saleable work.




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Tough Love

“I used to think that self-care meant taking it easy, pampering myself, and avoiding things when stress hit. Now I know that doing the thing I'm most afraid to do is the best way to take care of myself.”
--Cory Fransway, from Judith Wright's More e-zine



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Do Something Extra

Last night, for the sheer fun of it, I wrote the most bizarre little item I've ever written (and there's considerable competition in my oeuvre for that honor.) It was a one-pager, a humor piece (my intent, anyway), aimed at the slot that The New Yorker fills with satire and wordplay.

I won't burden you just now with the details of that story. What I want to say is that it was a delight to do. It wasn't like work at all. Not like revising my long-time novel-in-progress, which has its pleasures but is work.

The light free feeling came because this writing was extra, and I had no thoughts weighing on me about whether the piece was going to turn out to be good, or saleable, or both, or neither. Writing it was a loose unweighted walk, after a day of backpacking. Though it took four and a half hours, a substantial amount of time.

The same principle--do a little something extra--works in other arenas than writing. The book I co-authored with Allan Luks, The Healing Power of Doing Good, notes that people dealing with overwhelming job pressures and looming burnout can ease their feelings sometimes by doing some little useful extra that nobody expects or requires of them.

It works because:
*it puts the power back into the hands of the doer
*it's a reminder of how much fun the work (without external pressures) can be



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Creativity Equals Fearlessness?

Once when I was talking about my novel Sister India at a book club, one of the members made a comment about days when she feels creative.

I thought to myself: Feel creative? What's that like?

I take a rather workaday approach to writing: come into office, sit down at computer, write. There's no special feeling involved.

But today, I have to say, I think I felt what she was talking about. Maybe. What I realized was that I had no sense of dread or hesitation about taking on anything. I felt fairly confident I could do it well enough, whatever it was. (We're not talking about curing cancer, instead about writing paragraphs.)

Many days I start in again on a project in spite of a nettlesome grain of doubt, a feel of driving with the brake on. Once I'm working that goes away. Today it wasn't there at all, don't know why. But the absence of it, I have to say, felt creative. I'd like to work that way every day.

What's your experience? Is this kind of hesitation familiar? Do you simply force yourself past it, as I so often do? Or do you sail into your most challenging work with full glee?



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Flunking Creativity

The Epstein Creativity Competencies Inventory for Individuals just scored my answers on a 5 minute questionnaire. My score: a pitiable 70%!!! This is well below the level where I'm told I should be concerned.

I lost major points for not keeping a tape recorder by my bed at night, and not changing my work environment very often. (My office partner moves her office doodads and arranges flowers and such almost every morning. Me, I check my e-mail.)

Go take the test and see how you come out. It's at the very least a reminder of useful creativity techniques. (But how could I flunk, when I've never run short of ideas?)



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No-Brainer Time Management

I've discovered another difference between boldness and bad planning.

On Saturday morning I drove 5 hours to work with my brother on his house renovation. Got there in time to do about four hours of work. Spent one night. Worked about four hours again. Need I mention the heat?! Then another five hours on the road going home, feeling good. I'd had a good time and really gotten a fine workout.

Monday. Today. I drove up to my office building, turned the car off, and fell asleep. Woke up an hour later in the same position. My office partner driving up behind me hadn't waked me. Neither had the impressive heat in the closed car.

I pronounced myself rested and went into my office, where I felt mildly crazed the rest of the morning and then took a nap of nearly four hours. Which brings me up to the moment and my present conclusion: nothing is gained by making a three day trip in two days. It's going to require three days anyway, at least if one is over the age of 25.

Planning that uses the Evel Knievel approach--going against natural laws, etc.--is probably not the best way.



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Braving Sadness and Sorrow

Recently I was advised to be sad about sad things, that sadness is the root of tenderness. When anger starts to rise, I'm to check and see if the real feeling is sadness.

Well, talk about bold! The idea of voluntarily wandering into that grim and mucky swamp, which is the way I tend to view sadness, is seriously off-putting.

However, thinking of it in combo with tenderness changes the picture. Then its damp-and-wilted-ness begins to seem like aloe healing a burn.



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How to Brainstorm Better

One of my favorite movie scenes is a hands-on brainstorming session in Apollo 13, when the astronauts have a technical glitch ("Houston, we have a problem") and a team of engineers at homebase is given the precise materials available on board the spacecraft in order to patch together a solution. Fascinating and exciting!

There's also a good brainstorming scene in another Tom Hanks movie about an adman (I forget the title) in which the agency staff play office basketball while they toss around ideas. Thinking as a playful team sport.


Excellent article in Best Life magazine's August issue on how to think in cooperation with others. It sets one thing straight from the start: twice as many ideas are generated by people working solo than by a similar number of groups.

However, it's not uncommon to find ourselves in a group problem-solving situation. I did this sort of thing often in ad agencies back when I was freelancing ad copy, and finally got comfortable and happy with it. (Though my favorite kind of assignment was solo: bill us for x hours and send your list of ideas.)

Here are tips from Susan Welsh's "The Road to Eureka," which she takes from Sam Harrison's book Zing! Five Steps and 101 Tips for Creativity on Command.

*use brainstorming to build on and improve existing ideas, rather than to come up with new ones (I've usually seen the reverse)
*keep the group to a max of 5
*start by spending a few minutes on an unrelated exercise, such as finding ways to solve an imaginary problem
*when ready, encourage wild ideas that are focused on the goal
*people should blurt out their ideas, rather than taking turns talking
*allow no critical response to any idea
*don't go longer than an hour
*schedule a second session to allow ideas to perk

This process of fast blurting turned out to be fun once I got used to it. Sort of like pool volleyball. And getting into the swing of it really helps build the boldness muscles.



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Running Behind?

Probably no one feels as "behind" as the writer struggling to get a second novel written and published. Certainly that was true for me; my wrestle with the first and the ongoing business of the third have lacked the dreadful under-the-gun feeling I had before Sister India was released.

In "Success Sucks" U.K. writer Hamish MacFarlane has written a funny and "spot-on" piece about getting over sophomore slump to get going on his second novel.

"...I want to be read. I want people to see my take and say, you’re spot-on about that, and you put it in such a pretty way, too. I know this is true because it’s the opposite of my enduring number one fear of writing, not that I’ll fail to be published but that people will read my work and say, oh you freak, that’s not what the rest of us think at all."

It hasn't been easy for him. It wasn't easy for a lot of us. New kinds of boldness are needed, just when you think you had it made and didn't need all that sort of thing any more.

MacFarlane simply realized that the stories start to form anyway, best to just write them down instead of feeling guilty about not doing it. Plus, he wants to see how the story turns out. This attitude is part of what I think of as distance-runner boldness: endurance.

A note: MacFarlane complains (and you must go read it) about people constantly asking how's that new novel going? That question drove me crazy for a long time before Sister India came out. And then my annoyance faded, don't know how or why.

But I heard a good piece of advice about dealing with it. A woman I know who does strategic planning for movie studios, etc. said: just keep in mind that When's-your-next-one-coming-out? simply means Hello. It's something to say to show friendly interest, not asking you what you got on your report card.




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Twitching

At the time, she thought her elementary school teacher was Jezebel, my friend said at lunch today. In addition to whatever else K. suspected about her teacher, the woman did one thing that was really, really annoying. She allowed no twitching, no finger drumming. She required that the students sit still.

The very thought makes my nervous mannerisms go into full play. (Now taking off bracelet, flipping it around in circles.)

And what a harsh thing to do to a bunch of kids.

But she was right about the twitching, K. says. It sidetracks energy away from the focus of attention. Sitting completely still allows a more intense focus. That's the idea.

I don't argue with that.

However, for me the twitching, even multi-tasking, helps to keep me from a kind of hyperattentiveness that can be as destructive as neglect. This hyper-focus is also known as trying too hard.

Ideally, I'd get rid of the trying too hard, and then be able to sit still, and then take in third grade math in a blinding flash. (Reach for the stars!) But without the near-continuous leg swinging, toe tapping, finger drumming, doodling and twiddling, I fear I'd gain a hundred pounds. Seriously. Steady movement burns a lot of delicious calories.

Anyway, I may try this stillness experiment--I realize now that my right foot is bouncing. But I'm going to be careful with it. I'd be interested in anyone else's experience with the pros and cons of full focus.






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Self-Management

This morning I began an experiment with a new system of my own devising.

I think the matter of "managing" one's self well is pretty much central to everything, not just for freelance writers facing totally unstructured time. Seems to me that a personal management policy applies to every decision anyone makes: whether during "work time" to dig into the novel-in-progress or file tax receipts; whether, at lunch, to get the side of slaw or fries; even whether to give money to a particular panhandling homeless guy. None of these are no-brainers.

Here's my new system: I face each decision with two guidelines. 1) What do I feel like doing? 2) What choice would be "doing right by myself?" I don't get into an inner debate, I just bring these two questions into consciousness and then act.

I started this morning. The noticeable changes so far are that I ate a healthy breakfast and lunch. No fast food at all. And no quart of my beloved Mickey D's Sweet Tea, as is my usual custom. I don't feel deprived at all. I have no regimen I have to stick to; if lard feels like the right thing for supper, then that's what I'll have.

This new system is a blend of two I've tried that don't work: do what I want to and do what I ought to. Neither one of these alone takes me to a very good place. "Ought" leads me to fury and rebellious excess. "Want" leads me to leave off exercise, vegetables, meditation almost entirely.

Some months ago, at the start of the New Year, I announced here that I was moving to a new system which I think of as Act Like You've Got Some Sense or Follow the Will of God. This has worked better than others. And this new approach is simply a way of divining "the will of God." And it doesn't require sense of me all the time. It doesn't require anything.



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On Hating or Not Hating Jesse Helms

In my days as a freelance news reporter, I once shared a car with the late Sen. Jesse Helms and two or three other news people. We rode from one news event to the next in central Raleigh, perhaps a dozen blocks. In that time, the senator was courteous, didn't swear at any of us or try to hog up more than his share of space in the backseat. Getting out at the downtown Holiday Inn, he said a very pleasant thank you for the ride.

A lot of people say they admired the notoriously right-wing and anti-integration senator because he had nice manners and stood by his positions however wrong.

But decent manners and loyalty to injustice are likely qualities of many of the world's worst dictators. His courtesy was not enough to make me admire him. As he swung his long legs around to get out of the car, I could only look at him in morbid fascination, the same way I like to look from a safe distance at snakes and murderers.

The fact that throughout his career he stuck to his dreadful politics--this should make him better somehow? I don't follow the logic.

I'm certainly in favor of forgiveness and have never spent any energy hating Helms. (Though I'm close to finishing a novel about a notorious right-wing racist Southern senator named Billy, who is charming and seductive as well as famously inflexible.)

I do understand friendship and love that transcend politics. I covered the NC legislature for 11 years and care very much about more than one person who has opposed my interests.

So what if I'd worked around Helms regularly, spent more time with him? Would I have been swayed by his personal manner to acting as if his actions and philosophy on race were not so bad?

Ideally, I could like somebody without being moved in the slightest toward supporting their destructive behavior, either in my voting or in my writing. Not easy. Not even easy to monitor in one's self. But it's what we have to aim for, I'm convinced, to actually achieve justice. It won't come from dividing people into categories of good and bad.

I do know I admire anyone who can maintain such a balance of opposing the injustice and still behaving decently to, even drinking coffee with, the unjust. I consider that bold.



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