Maturity @ MindSay

As I approach the two-year anniversary of when my wife foolishly said, “I do” (figuratively, since who actually says that at a wedding?), I’ve been thinking about what we should do to celebrate, beyond dinner at our favorite restaurant (Melting Pot) and presenting her with her shiny new Nokia camera, nothing sounds more appealing than spending time frolicking with our new puppy.

 

That’s right, our all black three and a half month old Portuguese Water Dog (yes, that is the dog Obama has; no, that is not why we got him).  I don’t want to lock myself in a room and write, I don’t want to research agents and publishing houses to pitch, I want to go to a park or a lake or even just the backyard with the woman and the doggie I love. Comparing that sentiment to my honeymoon, when I typed away on a novel while the cruise ship rocked us back and forth, I’ve realized this blog, which started on January 9, all the way back in 2006, has become more of a chronicle of my maturity to adulthood than my attempts to get published.  And perhaps nothing is more evident of that than the massive gaps between posts, stagnant because I’m spending time working my full-time job, or working my recent new part-time job, or working on my house, or working to train the puppy, or the best of all, spending time with my lovely wife.  Our friends are having a baby in a few months.  Our pool is about to be opened and our new grill is begging to start charring.  I’m about to sit on a panel talking to college graduates about working life. When I started this blog, I was a kid.  Now, I’m…an adult. 

 

But that doesn’t mean I’ve abandoned my dreams of becoming a published author.  I’m still waiting for my wife and friend and screenwriter I admire greatly to review my most recent three novels, and while waiting I’ve written a few short stories to send to contests (something I promised myself and this audience I’d do months ago).  But I also recognize that in my absence from this blog, while doing all that growing up, our economy has changed drastically, and with it, so has the publishing industry.

 

One of my first posts was about the insanity of ever expecting to publish a book (especially a fiction novel) outside of self-publishing.  Multiple that message to the umpth degree now, where even the superstar writers of the world are seeing shrinking advances. 

 

But there is still hope.  There is still advice I can offer.  And I present it in the following five tips on how to publish a book in a wretched economy:

1. Make yourself a brand – you may not be a Stephen King or Jody Piccoutt yet, but that doesn’t mean you can’t market like you are.  Create a blog (better than this one), submit articles to online publications, contact local radio stations to see if they’d be interested in the story of who you are and what you’re trying to do (or if you’re a non-fiction writer offer yourself as a guest to discuss your specialization), become the next MySpace phenomenon (but first find the next MySpace, since that site, as well as Facebook and Twitter, are so last month) 
2. Create a package – Just your book isn’t enough anymore; develop the book, as well as online videos, photos or drawings to accompany the text, corresponding articles for outside publications, potential sequels, a graphic novel companion piece, action figures, etc.; whatever is appropriate for your work.  And make it clear that you are willing and able to take on much of the marketing; working on a website, traveling like crazy to multiple book readings and signings, hitting up conferences, phoning into radio show after radio show after radio show (and just so you know: you may have to be the one pitching the radio shows and organization the book signings as well).
3. Polish your writing – Your novel is perfect, right?  No, it could always be better.  Since publishers are barely accepting new work right now, take this time to send your work to friends for their review. Join book clubs.  Edit again and again and again.  Make sure it is beyond perfect, which doesn’t actually exist, like someone giving 110 percent.  See, I’m rambling.  This should be edited.  Don’t ramble.  Edit.  A lot. 
4. Be patient – The economy will rebound, and people will find renewed love for writing, and with J.K. Rowling and Stephanie Meyer motivating new groups of people to read, and with Dan Brown about to excite pro- and anti-religious groups all over again, the market is ripe for growth.  Do what my dog can’t do yet and “stay, stay, good boy.”  You’ll get that treat eventually.
5. Keep writing – The most obvious, corny, important advice I can give; keep writing.  Keep honing your craft.  Keep thinking about that new idea, the one that is so different from everything else out there, the one that the publishers can’t help but pay attention to.  It’s in you, and now, with no pressure weighing you down, is the perfect time to pull it out.

 

I tell you what, let’s make a deal.  If you keep writing, I will.  Okay?  Good.  Let’s get to it. 

 

 

On Wednesday, the 6th graders at my school are having an event called, "Taste of the World".  For months, they've been researching a country of their choice.  Some picked things from their heritage (John is hella proud of his Polish roots, he picked Poland), some they just like the names of (Zambia, for example), and some are just trying to stir up some controversy/learn more about controversy (Andrew, Iraq).

They've invited me to join them.  Thing is, they've been doing SO MUCH work on this; research, creating brochures, pretending to write letters home from said country, making maps, making topographical maps out of clay, making posters ... and then on Wednesday, they're all expected to come in having created a recipe from their country that they want to share with everyone else.  They said in order to come, I have to do some of the work, too.  I think that's fair.  I mean, it's not because I'm a teacher and am DONE doing work (especially elementary school work), but I also... I believe that if you're going to make a kid do something,  you have to be willing to do it, too.  Granted, it's not my assignment, but it's part of my teaching philosophy; they have to see that you're not above doing what you assign.  I take the tests I give to kids, and when I say 'it's silent reading time', you better believe I have a book out, too.

Anyway, I had it down between two countries; Spain and Israel.  Both are countries that have interested me greatly since I was young, but I decided Israel was a little less 'vanilla', something they might know a little less about, so that is my choice.  I am happy to report, I learned some new stuff and have already baked a practice loaf of Challah bread so I can make a big one for Wednesday.  I don't have supplies or time to make a poster or either of the maps, but I figured I could handle making a brochure to organize my findings.  Figured out how to set a brochure up on MicroWord (more than half the battle, believe this techno-phobe), and picked a template. 

The template I picked has a pretty simple cover format, but room for a 'slogan' of sorts.  Titling the brochure was easy; just changed the Wordart they had chosen to say 'Israel' instead of the original text.  And at the bottom, I changed it to my name and the school's name.  The problem is the slogan.

And this is why I shouldn't be a teacher.

Because so far, the slogans I've come up with are:

- Israel:  Same size as New Jersey, but not half as trashy
- Israel:  New Jersey's classy, foreign, congruent cousin
- Israel:  Shape of New Jersey, Class of the Other Tri-States

I still do a lot of goofy things.

But I am relieved to say...

(with the exception of one very comfy sleep-shirt)

I believe I have at long last outgrown

the wolf t-shirts.


(Really now, I think I had at least nine at one point).

In those few hours you gave me a taste for love
which was not soon to be forgotten
there, in my subconscious being
forcing me into comparison...

You spoke to emotions, indelibly imprinting
hope onto the heart of this child who'd never grown
to womanhood within, yearning
for unconditional tenderness

Insatiable thirst from just one blighted
memory, faintly burning from the few
coals remaining through the waning
passage of time

The embers warm me, yet
Though I know the flickering light
Glows from the feeding of a memory
Inflated in the glimmer of hopeful fantasy

Even as the child has blossomed into
The pragmatic sensibility of womanhood
I shall hold the desire, keep the faith
That this can be so again

In the light of day current love is tender
Ministering to the needs of the woman
I now am, awakening to the greater need
For we twain being united

In true love that endures beyond the tender
Moments of physical intimacy
Speaking to the necessity of sharing
Hearth, home, reality of longevity.

Bonnie

Where are you at on advice? Specifically asking for advice. Do you think compulsively asking for advice is something of significance? What’s that about? Why the need for a consensus?

 

Jade is a compulsive advice seeker. It doesn’t matter how big the decision or how trivial. She would like the input of everyone she knows, preferably every one she’s known within the last 5 years. As you can imagine, this process is very time consuming. It drives Jade herself nuts. She claims she doesn’t understand why she does this. That she’s always done this since she was a little girl. Is this simply indecisiveness? Simply wanting to make the best decision? I’m not sure. Maybe simply a bad habit? She’s not discriminating in her advice seeking. She will ask anyone and everyone. Even when she knows the person she’s asking may see life completely differently than she does. Knowing that the person she’s asking doesn’t have the same values she does. She values all opinions. Even from people she doesn’t particularly care for. What’s that about? She states that she’s beginning to feel crippled by it. That she doesn’t want to be this way. That it truly is a compulsion and it bugs her. So, we were called into action to give our two cents. Ironic, I know.

 

Cynthia doesn’t get it. She rarely asks for advice. And any advice she seeks is pretty trivial. She’s really looking for validation on a decision or situation that has already occurred. Or advice on what outfit to wear to a specific occasion. Stuff like that. She doesn’t even ask her husband for advice. She doesn’t need it. It doesn’t even occur to her to ask. Her advice to Jade is to stop it. Period. Move on. Be done. If you don’t like it, stop doing it. That’s as much empathy as you’ll get out of Cynthia.

 

Sue doesn’t see anything wrong with asking for advice. What’s the big deal anyway? Some people just need more support than others. There’s nothing to fix here. Jade usually ends up making the “right” decision. So if she needs help to get there, so be it. We’re her friends. That’s what friends are for. What’s interesting here is that Sue isn’t really an advice seeker either. She pretty much has it covered. So, this to me is getting significant. Does Jade have something wrong with her? Nobody else so far has this behavior. Hmmm. Sue’s advice for Jade is to be herself. Quit beating herself up. She’s fine. And she loves her. Just the way she is.

 

Danielle thought it was about time that Jade finally saw that she’s a compulsive advice seeker. While she didn’t think the flaw was fatal, she did see it as a flaw. Her advice for Jade was to seek therapy. Get to the bottom of it. Find out what was going on. It probably stems from a childhood trauma that she isn’t even aware of. Get some help. Again, Danielle, not much of an advice seeker. Hmmm. This is now very interesting. What are the odds that a compulsive advice seeker would have non advice seekers for friends? Is that significant? I’m not sure. Is this simply an issue of Jades? A harmless quirk? I don’t think so.

 

I argue that compulsive advice seeking is really a need for constant approval and validation. Another way that immaturity rears its ugly head. Isn’t the ability to make our own decisions without committee approval significant in our adulthood? I think so. Furthermore, perhaps this immaturity masks self esteem issues. Now hear me out before you puke. By self esteem I mean really self confidence. The inner knowledge and awareness that we can and do make good decisions independently. We don’t need a committee. Perhaps compulsive advice seeking is also a way for the advice seeker to get attention from her friends. Who doesn’t like to be called on for advice? Who doesn’t like to feel like the “wise old owl” as Cynthia calls herself? Perhaps Jade’s compulsive advice seeking is really a way to work her friends. Maybe it’s become a part of their friendship. Jade’s identity. She’s the one who needs committee approval and her friends get to be the committee and reap the sense of power and respect that goes along with it. It works for all involved parties.

 

It’s time to become adults. Don't hide your self behind a persona of "I need help.  I can't make it on my own".  It's time to be a big girl as they say.  It’s time to trust that we can make our own decisions. And trust that we can handle the bad ones. We all make bad ones. Committee or no committee. Let your own self be your guide. Your mentor. Your best friend. Trust yourself. You can do it! 

 

(A disclaimer: this blog is intended for those who actually do make good decisions most of the time. If you’re crazy, disregard. )