Friday, January 31, 2014

Stop Dreaming Small

I'm in the process of starting a non-profit organization and it has been a remarkably enlightening experience already. There has been a tremendous amount of positive response; everybody wants my program to exist and help the community members who need it most. There also has been this bizarre resistance to scale everything back. 

It always comes in a positive manner, like being told, "I really love what you're trying to do and I wish you the best, but I think you should start small and work your way up." Ultimately, though, they think I'm dreaming too big; they want me to dream smaller. 

I'm trying to purchase a building and equipment to teach physical arts as a way to teach about health, wellness, and stimulate thought. People tell us that we should run our program in existing buildings like churches and gyms first, and then grow up from there. And on the outside, it may sound reasonable, but there are two problems with it. First of all, it produces a level of complacency. The small victory of working in one location with some success may actually make it harder to move on to the next bigger step; taking one large step right up front can force the effort to work harder. 

The second point is so important that it needs it's own paragraph. No matter how small you dream, people will tell you to dream smaller. If I said that I wanted to run my own program out of a gym, these people would tell me "it's too much effort to make your own organization; just be a trainer at the gym, and you can still teach people your way. At the same time, if I told them that I wanted to operate fifty facilities across the country, they would tell me to just start with one. Again, no matter how small your dream is, people will tell you to dream smaller. 

At this point, I will say remind you (and myself) that this is technically a blog about writing. And from there, I will say that there is a direct, 1:1 correlation here. As a writer, people always tell you to dream smaller. Don't get a novel published, first get printed in literary magazines. But don't start with national ones; do local ones first. And before you do that, take workshops and join the writer's society and do anything other than try to get your novel published. 

Stop dreaming smaller. Write your novel. That is step one. Learn the process of getting novels published; the information is out there. However much time and energy you spend on rewriting, revising and being rejected, it is still a far better use of your time than working your way up a ladder where you can't even find the first rung.  

To "Realize"

I find the word "realize" a frustrating one at times. It has two accepted definitions, but one of them is used about a thousand times more often than the other. And what tops it off is that context isn't always helpful in clearing up which definition is intended. 

To "realize" is to understand. Where previously you didn't get something, now it is clear.

To "realize" is also to make real. Where previously it only existed in one's imagination, it now exists in the physical world. 

The first definition is the common one, but the second one is used just enough to avoid being archaic, but is so rare as to almost always be momentarily confounding - as though your brain has to back up and then remember that "realize" has the uncommon alternative definition. 

This is especially true when there is a similarity in sentences. For example, "I realized my desire" could perfectly use both definitions. "I realized my efforts" leans more on the archaic definition, but could very easily be the common one if there is more after that phrase. "I realized where my computer came from" is guaranteed to be the common definition unless they managed to create China.

I don't know if the older version of "realize" will be relegated to archaic definitions; it's not my choice alone. But for as long as I can use it and be understood, I shall. 

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Love Is Not Possession

The subject of love has come up in conversation lately, and I’ve been considering a new idea that was brought to the table – love is not possession.

If you look at almost any modern concept of love, there is an ownership involved. Your wife/husband/girlfriend/boyfriend/etc. is yours. And because they are yours, there are certain things they are no longer allowed to do.

A guy may not be allowed to start conversations with random women. A woman may not be allowed to wear certain clothes in public anymore. A guy may not be allowed to go out to certain bars or clubs anymore. A woman may not be allowed to go outside unescorted. None of those things sound like love. They sound like hoarders and slavemasters.

Love is altruistic. When you love somebody, you will do anything for that person to be happy and healthy. Wanting to control and dominate another is the exact opposite of love.

The Period Of A Year

The year is an odd period of time. On the one hand, it is incomprehensibly long; you cannot understand how long a year is any better than you can imagine a million people. On the other hand, time can fly by so quickly that it astounds you that things happened only one year ago.

Admittedly, this more speaks to the relative nature of experiencing time, but it also speaks to the cultural understanding of a year. It is right in the sweet spot where it feels like a long time (because seriously try to think how many things have happened since January 2013), but it also feels like the blink of an eye (because even though I've moved to a new state, started a new job, and had dozens of other life-changing experiences, it feels like a hell of a lot longer than a year since I lived in Buffalo and had my old jobs [which makes getting my W2's a bizarre and confusing experience]).

When you write about time, especially the passage of time, be conscientious of it. Should a year ago feel long or short? How do you create that ambiance and make the audience feel the proper flow of time? Master this step, and you will have an invaluable skill for all of your writing. 

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Teachable Moments

Our culture has a nasty habit of shaming the ignorant. When somebody doesn’t know what we know, we say, “Really? How do you not know that? It’s so obvious!” When somebody makes a claim which is incorrect (or rather, which we think is incorrect), we say, “Wow. That’s completely wrong. You’re an idiot!”

There are some people who let that slide off their back; they want to learn and understand so much that petty insults are too insignificant to spend energy on. Of course, those people are the minority. Intelligence and self-worth have been intrinsically connected, so those who have less knowledge are lesser people. And once you have been cast into the lot of the ignorant, you are thus hopelessly ignorant. “Oh. I’m an idiot. In that case, I will stop asking questions so nobody will ever find out how much I don’t know.”

In fact, our culture is so deeply immersed in this cycle that anybody who deviates from it gets the special title of teacher. A teacher is that bizarre individual who enlightens the ignorant instead of shaming them.

When somebody is ignorant or incorrect, these are not opportunities to dominate, but are instead “teachable moments”. If one’s view of reality is skewed, show them real reality; explain to them the fundamental flaw that arises in their view, usually because it contradicts how the world works. Equally important, though, is to not simply tell them that they’re wrong, but show them what is right. Explain to them how things operate and encourage them to do things in a new and more effective way.

What makes teachable moments so special is that they are relatively rare. The same forces in our culture that make us judge each other on how much we have memorized also make us close our minds to new information. Only during special circumstances does the average person allow themselves to be receptive to teaching. And if you are one of those rare teacher-types, then take advantage of every teachable moment you come across.

Monday, January 27, 2014

Different People Work Differently

There are several  ways that a person can learn new things. Some people learn by hearing people explain. Some need to see a process done. Some need to read instructions. Others need a diagram. Some need to write things down. Some need to physically do the thing. And the list goes on and on. 

With so many different methods just to learn new things, understand that there are similarly many ways to actually do basically anything. If you have listened to writers talk about their writing process, there is a world of variety. People write in the morning or right before bed. Some people have a specific start time and others roll. Some have a strict end time and others go until they run out of steam. Some are in nature and others indoors. Some have background noise which also comes in a number of varieties) and others are in silence. 

I bring this up to remind writers that nobody can tell you what will definitely work best for you. When people give advice, they are usually just telling you what works for them. But different people work differently. Consider their advice as a technique to try out, but by no means a universally true method. 

And remember that this is just as true for what you write about and how you write it as it is for where and when you do it. 

Saturday, January 25, 2014

The Grand Vizier

In talking about supporters, it reminded me of the stereotypical "grand vizier" character. This is basically the king's most trusted advisor on all matters. Generally speaking, absolutely all grand viziers are evil; they are biding their time and executing a slow-moving plan to depose the king and usurp the throne. A classic example is Jafar from the movie Aladdin. 

This is a corruption of the supporter role. It's somebody who is helping you out, but doesn't have your best interests at heart. It's somebody who is keeping you going, but has you going in the wrong direction. 

It's such a stereotype now, that if you actually played that role straight in a story, you would probably throw a lot of people off.