Brass

Browsing the magazine-swap corner at my local library, I ran across a small treasure that I, a magazine junkie, had never heard of: Brass Magazine. Publishing for five years, it appears to be a financial/inspirational magazine for young people. Mantra: "young today * rich tomorrow."

If it were just about money in conventional numerical terms, an old English major like me would be bored. But I started freelancing full-time when I was 22 (that's 38years ago now), and I could have used this info and encouragement about running my one-person business. (My best help on this was my entrepreneur mom, but at that age I wasn't greatly inclined to seek too much help from a parent.)

In the Feb. 2007 issue I picked up, the point seemed to be helping people get started at "doing their thing" and doing good as well as well. And the cover story was about, of all things, a poet, Carlos Andres Gomez!

The column "I'm Young, Not Dumb" by CEO Bryan Sims showed some of the ironic difficulties the young entrepreneur faces. When he applied as a student for "independent" study credit for running his own business, he was asked to call the work an internship and have one of his "more experienced" employees to sign off as his supervisor.

The advice he gives: "...We all find ourselves in frustrating situations that seem unfair. Keep going. And along the way, make sure you don't make the same mistakes. Don't judge people by their appearance or age...And if someone tells you your dreams are impossible, go do something about it. Go prove them wrong."

I need to be reminded myself not to discriminate based on age; I very often make negative assumptions about people under twelve who are not my nephews.

Probably most of us can use some encouragement to keep on paddling toward our dreams. Might be some help also to people of any age who are still novices at the financial part of dream-realization.

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Split Personality

Overtly being oneself is a great thing and necessary, I think, for a happy life and having any kind of satisfying success in the world.

At the same time, I'd like to think it was possible for all of me to fit in at one place sometimes. With my most high-serious chums, the flip, brash part of my nature kicks in; I'm all McDonald's and bubblegum music. On the other hand, with my most unhesitating, just-do-it, no-nonsense friends, I'm more likely to become Ms. Brooding Artist.

Probably just a playing out of my own conflict about having such disparate halves. I'm actually pleased that it's so, serves me well in a lot of ways. But it creates a sort of friction too; I'm ever pulling the wrong club out of my golf bag. And, curiously, doing it on purpose.

Decades ago, I told my therapist Nick Stratas as we walked out his office door that I had a strong identification with two people: 1) his famous-opera-singer sister Teresa Stratas and 2) the then-governor of North Carolina, Jim Hunt. Different jobs. And it would appear, very different temperaments. Therapist's response in short: "inner conflict."

I had the same conversation around that time with my brother Franc Payne; I told him that my problem was that I had our father's tumultuous interior and our mother's stoic exterior. He said, "you've got your daddy's hormones and your mama's Methodism." Neither of those descriptions do justice to either of our parents. But they do make a fair sketch of me. I'm assuming something of this sort of mixed-bag-ness is true for everyone. Which is one of the challenges of "being one's self."

How about you? How many people do you embody? Or do you feel yourself to be all-of-a-piece?

(In any event, thanks for listening. This has been a great relief.)

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A Writer's Platform

I've just discovered a book I'm wildly excited about: Get Known Before the Book Deal: Use Your Personal Strengths to Grow an Author Platform.

This addresses what seems to be a Catch-22 for a lot of writers at various career stages: the current need to be semi-famous in your field to help an agent sell the book. The author has to bring ever more to the table in the way of a waiting audience.

This book is the best thinking I've seen on the subject of how to do it. And it's aimed at both fiction and nonfiction, extrovert and introvert. You don't have to be techie to understand it. And it doesn't make me feel bad, as some experts do, that I haven't done all the suggested things already.

Author Christina Katz, also known as Writer Mama, has been "Empowering Writers Since 1998."

You'll likely be hearing more about this book from me. Or maybe you'll just see the dazzling results.

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"...There Are Always Difficulties..."

"Whatever you do, you need courage. Whatever course you decide upon, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There are always difficulties arising that tempt you to believe your critics are right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires some of the same courage that a soldier needs. Peace has its victories, but it takes brave men and women to win them."
Ralph Waldo Emerson discovered at Wisdom for the Soul

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She Writes

For women writers: a brand-new info, networking, and promotion resource, SheWrites.com has gathered 5 short of 2,000 members in its first two weeks. I joined. I think you might find it inspiring, useful, and one more place to "show your stuff."

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Frost's Freedom

Today's inspiration:

Freedom lies in being bold. ~ Robert Frost

from: Senia.com Positive Psychology Coaching

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Climb Every Mountain?

"When a door opens, walk through it. Trust that the door has opened for a reason and you have been guided to it....Every time we walk through an open door, we create a sense memory that encourages us to move into the new fearlessly. When we enter the new space, we almost always feel a thrill and a new feeling of confidence, in ourselves and in the universe."

From Friday's Daily Om

I'm not so sure about this one. I made a vow years ago to refrain from taking dares; they tend to lead me in the wrong direction.

On the other hand, when a door opens and I feel I might not go through it because of fear, then I force myself. I had some hesitation about taking on co-authorship of The Healing Power of Doing Good. A buddy of mine said to me as we stood in the line at the K&W Cafeteria: "Don't weird out on this." I'm glad I didn't.

What do you think about this walk-through-every-door idea? Am I just taking this too literally? If I pay attention, I can see that doors are opening every day and it's impossible to go through all of them.

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Hot Pink

Hanging over my office building's door this morning.


Even the gentlest pastel can go bold.

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The Courage To Hand Out Hamburgers

I've long thought that the people who work the fast-food drive-through windows are superheroes. They have to take an order at the same time they're delivering another order and making change. If I hadn't seen it a thousand times, I'd swear it was humanly impossible. I think it takes a lot of gumption to take up that kind of juggling at all.

There are a examples everywhere of such everyday courage. Flipping through an old Sun magazine last night, I ran across an essay about the kind of emotional fuel such work requires.

From "They Always Call You 'Miss'" by Alison Clement:

"There's more to waiting tables than you might think. It takes courage, for one thing. You walk up to a table, and everyone turns to look at you, as if you're about to deliver the opening line of a play....You have to act as if you know what you're doing and everything is going according to a plan....You have to remember: Gin and tonic to table 8; man at 12 is late for a meeting; nut allergy on 5. You have to remember it all and not get overwhelmed."

If I start to feel down on human nature, I think about the ordinary things that people muster the courage to do every day.

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Courage Quote

Offered by Mamie, the Quote Queen:

The highest courage is to dare to appear to be what one is.
- John Lancaster Spalding, First Bishop of Peoria, 1840-1916.

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The Many Brands of Courage

What's bold for one person is routine for another. We all know that, but I find it so easy to forget--until once again I see someone confidently run a multi-team project that would make me want to retire to a quiet room like a rock singer with exhaustion. Or until I see someone quaking over something I don't blink at--like flying or public speaking.

I find it very hard to wrap my mind around being worried about flying. No effort is necessary, no getting-it-right. One need only sit there and flip through a magazine. To understand that kind of fear, I need the sharp memory of some of my own kinds of nervousness: about entertaining, or being a house guest, or steering someone wrong somehow. Those are stupid fears, the first two anyway.

We all manage to do and finally enjoy things we're scared of. It's a triumph we ought to give ourselves credit for. And it's a marvel and a delight how differently we're each put together.

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Gavriel Lipkind, Carrie Knowles, and the B.C.O.

I don't know how to say this properly, because I know so little about classical music. I'm a fan of hip-hop and old rock and roll. I play the serious stuff mainly as background while I'm reading, and go to classical concerts mainly to get dressed up and go out on the town with friends and sit under nice chandeliers and listen to pretty music that I don't usually recognize.

But last night I went to a concert that was extraordinary. Even for a clunk like me.

Israeli cellist Gavriel Lipkind played with the Brussels Chamber Orchestra (of Belgium) in Raleigh in the official opening night of the Cross Currents Chamber Music Arts Festival, an international chamber music festival created and put on single-handedly by my friend and office partner Carrie Knowles whose son Neil Leiter plays viola in the Brussels group.

For most of the last year, Carrie has sat in the office next to mine and raised money and gotten visas and such and made this ten-day festival happen. What she has done is an amazing demonstration of what one person can accomplish (in spite of my telling her repeatedly and unhelpfully that she was mad to attempt such a thing. Just watching the process from next door was like having an office next to a heliport)

Well, the Brussels Chamber Orchestra, a conductor-free group of a dozen or so young musicians from half a dozen countries, played beautifully and were intriguing to watch. Then they brought out their soloist, Lipkind, whom I'd had no special interest in because I was mainly listening for Neil whom I've known since he was a wee fellow. The Belgium-based musicians had met the Israeli cellist in Norway.

Lipkind and the BCO together were an astonishing treat. And at intermission, I caught sight of Mamie, a regular here, who called out: I'm looking forward to reading about how bold he is.

I hadn't even thought about writing of the experience. Sitting on the second row, I was too overwhelmed. Lipkind, in a black "bat" shirt and long gold curls, is the most physically expressive, playful, and joyous musician I've ever seen. It's not reaching for a metaphor to say that he was making love to the music.

I can't tell you a thing about his or anyone's pizzicati (and I'm not sure if that's a word or if it's a word meaning little pasta), but it was thrilling music to watch and to listen to. And the interaction between him and the other musicians was like watching a celestial drama.

Seriously bold. Nobody holding back.

And this group of musicians and Carrie did their job well, at least in my case, since it's part of their mission to bring chamber music to new audiences.

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An Annual Celebration of Courage

The Fourth of July is a celebration of boldness. From one year to the next, I forget that it’s more than a day that the mail doesn’t come, more than a day of vacation. (Though I’m self-employed, I generally loaf on the same days the rest of my world does.)

But yesterday both Prairie Home Companion and the celebration on the Mall in D.C. stirred once again my pride in the best of the U.S., and that includes having shaken loose to become an independent nation. It took some serious and costly shaking to make that happen. Some of my scrappy old relatives were in on it—all but one on the side of Independence (and that one Royalist had to have had a bold streak as well).

This legacy isn’t all good; one of the same relatives led a company of soldiers that destroyed several Native American villages.

I’ll probably never pick up a musket myself—or a handgun. I’m lucky never to have been faced with the decision. A big piece of that “luck” is that others have insured my independence. My responsibility is merely to have the courage to fully—and wisely—use it. Once again, the fireworks and the music remind me.

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Ropes Courses and Such

I have a friend who, with her husband, has raised three exceptional children. One of her philosophies is, instead of giving children toys, to give them "real things." They didn't do skateboards or TV (except for the World Series). But if a kid wanted a banjo, he got a real one, not a baby version. And instead of playing board games of risk, he competed by volunteering in a real political campaign.

I thought of this again when I saw last week in my local paper a story on mountain climbing as a way to develop the goal orientation and other qualities needed to start a business. My philosophy is: skip the mountain challenge (unless you're in it for the fun) and go straight to starting the business.

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"The Man on The Radio in the Red Shoes"

A stirring way to celebrate the bold occasion of Independence Day: Prairie Home Companion's live show tomorrow at 5:00 Central Time in the Wobegon-like town of Avon, Minnesota. The program also celebrates the 35th anniversary of Garrison Keillor's Prairie Home creation, as well as "the birth of freedom," as GK says on the promo on the website. For those who can make their way to Avon, the show is free, as it also is on its regular NPR stations.

And if you're a GK fan, as I am, make sure to see the new documentary on his life: The Man on the Radio in the Red Shoes. It aired two night ago on PBS' American Masters series, and you can order the DVD. This portrait shows a bold imagination at work and will at the same time make you feel happy to be American and human.

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Call Your Congressman Monday

An invitation arrived here that's open to anyone who has things to say about improved health insurance coverage:


"Event: National Strike for Health Care Reform

"Put an end to murder by spreadsheet. Demand an alternative to private, for-profit health insurance. Demand public, universal health care coverage."

What: Protest
Host: You -- and as many fellow citizens as you can assemble
Start Time: Monday, July 6 at 8:00am
End Time: Monday, July 6 at 6:00pm
Where: Everywhere in the United States of America

To see more details and RSVP, follow the link below:
http://www.facebook.com/n/?event.php&eid=93893269141&mid=a8e182G4b0e108aG8f29dbG7"

I don't have a detailed plan in mind myself for health care insurance reform. But I know for sure that we need it.

This invitation, as you'll see if you follow the link, suggests staying home from work and buying nothing and calling Congressmen all day.

I disagree, especially in this economy, with the idea of skipping out on a job and boycotting already-endangered retailers.

I do heartily endorse the idea of a nation-wide call-in insisting on reform that makes sure everybody has good affordable health insurance, with coverage that is pro-health rather than a Catch-22 system where, for example, it's impossible to know whether a procedure is covered until it's done.

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Making Waves

Out in my kayak on Jordan Lake on Sunday, I made several dozen efforts to shoot a picture of a wave.

This is not an ocean wave. It's a lake wave on a fairly calm day; mostly it's wake from a motorboat. But up close from a little rubber boat, such waves can look and feel pretty impressive.

Which is how it is with making waves in daily life. Moments of unaccustomed speaking up can seem huge, disruptive. But the water does calm down again.

Water movement in a pond can make life better there; keeps it from getting stagnant.

(Speaking of appearances, the water in this lake is more blue-brown than cerulean most of the time. I didn't see it as this blue when I was taking this picture. And I didn't enhance the color of the photo with my computer. Just a bit of kayaking magic, I guess.)

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Busy Reading Manuscripts

Today's the last day of my Big Bold Sale, after having cut my prices for manuscript critiques by 40% for these past four weeks of June.

Now I'm reading and reading. I'm glad to be doing the work, and it's nice to make a Bold Gesture and get big response. I've met some new writers from both halves of the globe (all English-speaking) and heard from a lot of people I've worked with before.

So now there's the matter of finishing the work itself, which feels not so much bold as step by step by step. That's what often happens, I think, when a Bold Move turns out well.

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Bloom Whereever You're Rolling

I'm fond of cars that are highly personalized, having done shocking things to my own '92 Camry, my "shabby chic" artcar.

Last week, teaching at Meredith, I had the pleasure of parking next to an especially jaunty and charming one. Its owner, writer Beth Browne, bought it with its decorations already attached; however, it seemed to have been designed specifically for her. Imagine every car in a parking lot being a personal work of art. There'd be an ever-changing party in every lot.

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Boldly Catching Up

Just slept 11 hours. The last week, with the five-day, nine-to-three workshop plus a few other things happening and coming due, was intense. When I woke up midday today, I thought: is there anything better than this? the luxury of lying here?

A friend once said that she enjoyed being tired once she gave in to it. I don't at first, because at first it feels like illness. But being well into recovery feels great. And I'll be back to full steam probably late this afternoon when I get out in my little paddle boat. All emails to be returned tomorrow.

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