Five Thoughtful Ways to Honor a Lifelong Reader

My mother passed away in December. She was a professor at Penn State University, an active member of American Association of University Women (AAUW), involved in several book clubs, and a lifelong scholar. One of her favorite sayings -- one I find myself repeating often because of its incontrovertible truth -- is "no education is ever wasted."

Several people who knew and loved Mom chose to honor her life in ways that supported her love of reading. All of them touched my heart far more than cards or flowers could have. If someone you love loves to read, here are some suggestions for passing that love on to others in their name:

1.) Make a donation in the Reader's name to First Book.

Every year, First Book provides books and educational resources to over 3 million kids who need them most. This non-profit organization is a leading voice in the quest for educational equality. In a little over 25 years, First Book has distributed over 170 million books and resources in 30 countries.

2.) Volunteer to teach someone else to read.
Contact your local library or school resource office to inquire about how you can get involved in local literacy programs. Yes, it's hands on. Yes, it will take some time. But you could literally save someone's life...

The link between illiteracy and incarceration is incontrovertible. In 2010, 85 percent of all juveniles caught up in the juvenile court system were functionally illiterate, as were 60 percent of all prison inmates. Inmates have a 16 percent chance of returning to prison if they receive literacy help. Those who receive no help have a 70 percent rate of recidivism.

Imagine the difference you could make if, in honor of the Dear Reader in your life, you gave someone the lifelong gift of literacy.

[Not up to the one-on-one interaction of teaching literacy? A donation to RIF, the United States' largest children's literacy non-profit, may be more up your alley.] 


3.) Donate a book to your local library. Or to the library closest to your Beloved Reader.
Everyone who knew Mom knew she believed in libraries. So it's fitting that her local library now has new books donated in Mom's name.

(Note, if you're involved with a local library and you're short on funding, consider holding an In Memoriam Book Drive. Books: the gift that keeps on giving.)

4.) Give beloved titles to hospitals. Or nursing homes. Or senior centers. Or Safe Shelters. Or homeless shelters...
Books love to be read. If you have to clear out a Beloved Reader's bookshelves, consider taking the titles to places where they will be able to gain a whole new audience.

5.) Start a book club in your Dear Reader's name. 
Make the Dear Reader's favorite book the first title you read and discuss.

What is your favorite way to keep the flame of literacy burning?

Thanksgiving Thoughts on Roald Dahl's "Television" Poem

As we drove through town this Thanksgiving day, on the way to Grandma and Grandpa's house, my daughter noticed the stanchions in front of Wal-Mart and Best Buy and other stores, awaiting the ravening hordes that will be pushing and shoving each other in a few hours. 

"Why would people let themselves be herded like cattle just to buy a few things?" she asked. 

"Flat screen TV's are on sale," I said. "Wouldn't getting one cheap make you want to stand outside in sub-zero temperatures and trample others underfoot?"

She caught my eye in the rear-view mirror. "Sarcasm?"

"You think?"

 

On the way to the grandparents', we listened to an audiobook of Roald Dahl's 1964 classic "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," which features Dahl's awesome "Television" poem. The fact that it's rather preachy doesn't make it any less relevant... 

Television

The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set --
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.

In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.

(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit 
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.

Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink --
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?

IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES!

'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say,
'But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!'

We'll answer this by asking you,
'What used the darling ones to do?
'How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?'
Have you forgotten? Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow:
THEY ... USED ... TO ... READ! They'd READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more.

Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!

Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)

The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr. Rat and Mr. Mole-

Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.

Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They'll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.

And once they start -- oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.

***

At the end of the poem -- before Charlie and his Grandpa Joe rode the glass elevator "up and out" -- my 10-year old said "I've read all those books and know all those characters they mention." You should have seen the look of abject horror on her face when she followed up with, "You mean some kids haven't?!"

3 Suggestions for Solving the Problem of Discoverability

Ask any writer (with the possible exception of Stephen King or Jonathan Franzen) what the single biggest hurdle in their career is, and chances are you'll hear the same answer over and over again:

So many pretty distractions...

"Discoverability."

Discoverability is not a new word, though Blogger underlines it in red in a vain attempt to convince me otherwise.

A hundred years ago, Websters defined the word as "the quality of being discoverable." Duh. A hundred years before that, Scottish sociologist Thomas Carlyle used it in reference to the Buddhist belief that once every generation is born "a Greatest Man; that he is discoverable; that, once discovered, we ought to treat him with an obedience which knows no bounds. This is the truth of Grand Lamaism; the 'discoverability' is the only error here."

Today, the thorny problem of discoverability has less to do with locating the perfect human than with helping the perfect reader locate your book.

So many pretty distractions clamor for attention that one can hardly blame readers for buzzing like starving bees only around the pollen of titles penned by tried-and-true authors. It doesn't matter that others might create something they would enjoy as much as -- if not more so -- than the writers they know. They don't have unlimited time to waste searching for something to satisfy their literary cravings. So they will continue to read the authors they know... even long after those authors have ceased to surprise or inspire them.

Now, if someone they know, someone they trust, someone who is familiar with their tastes and preferences recommends a title, chances are they'll embrace the opportunity to add to their stable of "approved" authors. The problem isn't that readers are averse to reading an author they've never tried before; it's just that too many don't have the time, inclination, or sheer dogged determination to plow through the tens of thousands of titles looking for something that strikes their fancy.

Discoverability, it would seem, drops the problem of the infamous slush pile of unsolicited submissions at the reader's feet. "You have a computer? Here's access to every book on the planet!!!" ~maniacal laughter rings~

So the readers do what most people do when confronted with too many choices and too little direction: they sidestep the problem entirely and stick with same-old, same-old. (It is this trait, fer instance, that keeps me ordering the same thing every time I visit Starbucks.)

How to find the right one?

The plague of Discoverability is something publishing --  both traditional and indie -- has known about for years.

It's the reason non-fiction writers need a solid platform before they can sell a book project. ("Built-in audience and awareness! Score!")

It's the reason self-published titles need to have sold several thousand copies in a relatively short time span before a publisher will make an offer for acquisition. ("People already know about it! W00t!")

Trouble is, no one really knows how to combat it. Which is not to say that people aren't trying. Many writers -- and publishers, too, for that matter -- clog up their Twitter streams with 140-character tweets of desperation that implore people to give their books a chance. Facebook pages flog books and articles. And don't forget the book trailers on YouTube and elsewhere. One of the more ingenious, though misguided, attempts I've seen at making a book discoverable involved a 5 minute advertisement that ran before the featured film at our local theatre.

The Perseus Books' Group, in an effort to address the problem, is hosting a 36-hour Publishing Hackathon this weekend, hoping that getting a bunch of bright bulbs together to "develop new approaches to digital book discovery" will create the right marketing juju. This is a Big Deal. How big? The winners get $10,000 cash and the opportunity to pitch their idea to Ari Emanuel, Co-CEO of William Morris Endeavor.

That big.

I'm no marketing guru, but I have some thoughts on cracking the code of discoverability, in the (admittedly selfish) hopes that someone will employ one or more of them and introduce me to more writers whose works I fall in love with.

Idea I: Steal a Page from Hollywood

One of my favorite parts of going to the movies and renting videos is the previews. While growing up, one could always tell the caliber of movie playing in my hometown theatre by the number of previews before it. For some reason, the more previews, the better the film. Now, I'm not suggesting that we put book trailers up on the big screen (see my previous note of disdain re: the 5-minute self-pubbed ad), but I AM wondering what would happen if publishers would routinely include the opening chapter, say, of two or three soon-to-be-released-titles in each book.

I know; often I'll get a teaser chapter from the author's next book. But it's as if each author is a closed shop -- I rarely see the writing of other writers within those sacred covers.

Here's the thing: movie previews don't just showcase a single director, actor, or writer. They show what's up and coming that should appeal in some way to the feature film's core demographic. Previews exist to expose an already committed audience to new material. Publishers could learn from this.

Idea II: Revamp Publishing Pros' Websites for Reader-Friendliness

It never ceases to amaze me how off-putting many publishing pros' websites can be. Both big and small presses have sites that lean more toward hard-sell storefront than enticing entertainment.

If the first thing site visitors see about a title is its hardcover price, with no blurb regarding content, how does that encourage them to dip into the book?

Some sites waste valuable homepage real estate on things like outdated news in miniscule fonts. Others make you jump through hoops just to find out what titles are available. Most front load their sites with their bestsellers, but don't capitalize on the bestsellers to drive readers to new authors. And practically all cram so much content on the page that it's rendered a meaningless jumble of visual noise.

Most publisher's sites are guilty of the writer's deadly sin: telling instead of showing. They tell people about their books, but show little of each one. If you already know what you want to buy, a publisher's site is fairly easy to negotiate (but Amazon is usually cheaper).  If, however, you love one author and want to see what similar books the publisher has available, publishers could learn a lot from emulating Amazon's "Customers who bought _____ also bought _____" tactic.

Idea III: Take Safety in Numbers

I don't know why, in the world of publishing, every author is an island, trying to make it on his or her own. It would make so much sense for publishers to consider the advantages of fielding "teams" -- especially of debut and midlist authors.

We're stronger & last longer when we stick together!

In much the same way that a studio promotes a new film by sending multiple cast members, as well as the director, out as ambassadors, a publisher could send multiple authors within a genre out to promote not just one book, but several.

In the same way that film buffs go to more than one movie a year, or TV aficionados watch more than one show, readers are willing to shell out hard earned cash for more than one book. They just need to know what's out there. See, each author is not in competition with every other author. Rather, each author is competing against the sheer overwhelming odds of getting noticed.

Sending a debut author out to a booksigning is generally regarded as a boneheaded financial decision because said writer does not yet have the clout or the cache to draw big crowds: the very definition of lack of discoverability. But why not throw a genre-specific team of rookies together with someone launching their sophomore title and package it as an event? Live or online, such things make sense, bringing a cadre of new authors to the attention of readers hungry for more of a particular genre, helping to raise the visibility of several of the publisher's newbies, rather than casting them adrift into the vast sea of titles to see who can swim.

I'm not certain any of my ideas would solve all discoverability issues. But I do think they'd be a start.

What about you? What's your solution? Here's hoping that someone somewhere cracks the discoverability code... and soon.

"I Love Your Story Anyway!" -- Tales From the Unintended Audience

"I know I may not be the intended audience... and I love your story anyway!"

This tweet from accomplished improv musician Stan Stewart (@muz4now), a faithful reader of "Dear Alderone," got me thinking. Since September, I've been serializing "Dear Alderone" online. It's a middle-grade novel, which means that its target audience is tweens. It features two 14-year old female protagonists bonded by blood, separated by several decades,  connected by crisis.

I wrote a story I wanted to tell: a story that I would have liked reading when I was 14. But you know what? I'm not picky at all about who reads or -- perhaps more importantly -- who likes it.

The wonderful thing about words on a page (or screen) is that they are equal-opportunity communicators, readily conveying their information to anyone willing to decipher them.

Skippyjon stays!

I know what it's like to devour a book, getting caught up in the story, all the while cognizant of the fact that the author did not have me in mind while writing. I like Eoin Colfer's Artemis Fowl series, though I have nothing in common with an uber-rich, genius boy intent on world domination. And I flat-out love Judy Schachner's Skippyjon Jones books -- so much so that I  was crushed when my cat-crazy 10 year old daughter announced that I could give them away because she was "too old" for them.

"Noooooo!" I wanted to yell as the books came off of my daughter's bookshelf--

...to be instantly rehomed in mine. Skippyjon stays.

Here's a little-known writer's secret:
Anyone who loves what I write is my intended audience.

Here's another one:
Nothing makes a writer's day like hearing from someone who appreciates a good story.

If you are a rabid reader of an author's work, it doesn't matter whether or not you are in the publisher's target market. Want to really make a writer's day? Some simple ways to spread the love:

*  Tweet 'em up. Whether or not the writer is on Twitter, compose a tweet personally recommending your favorite read to your followers. For the cherry on top, add the #amreading hashtag. 

*  Blog About It. If you have a blog, dedicate a post to a book, series, or writer you like. Google loves that kind of stuff almost as much as authors do.

*  Keep the Comments Coming. If the writer has a blog, drop a short comment stating how much you enjoyed a particular book / story / article. It's not that we're pathetic or emotionally needy. (Ok: Some of us are.) It's just that most writers get more than enough negative feedback. For some reason, the people who *don't* like what we do have no problem telling us. I mean: name one other business that names the vast majority of its missives "rejections." You have no idea what a supportive comment praising one's work can do to boost the creative muse.

*  Read. Review. Repeat. Reviews -- especially good reviews -- are like reserves of gold in a wildly fluctuating economy. If you really want to keep your favorite writers producing more stuff for you to read (instead of, say, trading in their mad typing skills for a hairnet and practicing their delivery of the catch phrase "would you like fries with that?") write a well-thought out, reasoned review and post it in appropriate online, visible places. Amazon is one such place, to be sure, but don't neglect other online booksellers who cater to people who might not want to enrich the all-powerful 'Zon.

*  Share and Enjoy. Like a book? Talk it up. Then lend it to a friend, so that person can help you spread the word. In fact, you could start a kickass trend by purchasing a physical copy of your favorite paperback, inscribing something like "I liked this book so much I wanted to share it with the world. Read it. Enjoy it. Then, when you're done, leave it in a public place for someone else to discover!" and leaving it behind in a coffeeshop, or a bus stop, or a train station, or a doctor's office, or... You get the picture. 

So here's to all the dedicated readers out there. It doesn't matter whether or not you are in the segment of the population to whom a book is marketed. It's not about the marketing; it's about the reading!  

On the 10th Day of Christmas My True Love Gave to Me: 10 Pages Turning

"On the tenth day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me:
10 pages turning,
9 ducks a-bugging,
an 8 year old dancing,
7 hens a-laying,
6 cats a-sleeping,
5 More Minutes!
4 calm equines,
3 fuzzy dogs,
2 flightless birds,
and an old farm in the country."

A sad reality of the publishing world is that writers don't read. A few months ago, Salon even weighed in on the matter of non-reading writers. It's tragic and it's true: too many of us are guilty.

I daresay no one ever became a writer without reading -- and reading voraciously. Generally, writers began as dyed-in-the wool reading addicts who would shamelessly admit to reading everything:
Children's books...
Classics...
Potboilers...
Pulp trash...
Cereal boxes...
Shampoo ingredients (what the heck is "cyclomethicone" and why does it remind me of an amusement park ride for junkies?).

But somewhere along the way, the days that dragged when I was nine began to fly. Now mine zip by so fast that if I blink twice, I'll miss one.

Sadly, a day has only 24 hours. In that time, in addition to sustaining a relationship, raising children, letting the dogs out, doing laundry, buying groceries, researching agents & publishers, formatting for Smashwords, cooking dinner, editing, working (God help us) the day job, and letting the dogs out again, we must find the time to actually corral the Muse, get her to cooperate and create.

Something has to fall by the wayside. Too often, at least in my own life, it's reading for pleasure.

I think part of the problem is the "for pleasure" aspect of reading. As if it's a frivolous activity that should only take place when all Important Stuff has been accomplished. Which is never.

But reading, like eating, isn't something a writer who wants to remain inspired can do without for very long. In all likelihood, reading is what made us fall in love with words in the first place. Some writer say they "don't have time to read." Or, worse yet, claim "there is nothing out there worth reading. That's why I write."

Bull pucky.  No offense intended, but reading is the writing profession's equivalent of continuing education. The writer who doesn't make time to read is akin to the doctor who doesn't make the time to stay current on what's happening in the world of medicine. The long-term effects on either professional's career can be devastating.

Because reading is so important, so critical, (and -- let's face it -- so dang much fun), I've implemented a plan to make sure I include it in my life. Every day, I make sure I read 10 pages. That's all. Just 10. There's time enough in every day, I reason, to read 10 stinkin' pages. No matter how busy life gets, 10 pages are a doable thing.

This practice has made me grateful for several things:

*  I have rediscovered how much I love escaping into a good book and am thankful for the writers out there who didn't give up, who persevered, and who saw those books to fruition.

*  I am grateful for the short window of downtime those 10 pages bring to every day.

*  I am exceedingly thankful that those few pages provide me with something to talk about, to think about, and to brood upon OTHER than my own works-in-progress and my own life.

*  Finally, I am thankful for the surprising gift of ::gasp:: Extra Time that I often discover. Because you know what happens more often than not? This writer who for far too long has thought she didn't have enough time to read for pleasure discovers that those 10 pages just aren't enough. And I find the time to shoehorn in an entire chapter... or two... into my schedule.

Lost Boys

I blame Flat Stanley. He started it all.

When I was 5 and in first grade, I met Flat Stanley. He was so cool. Squashed nearly 2-dimensional by a falling bulletin board, Flat Stanley permanently changed the way I saw the world. When he stood sideways, you couldn't see him. When his mom lost her diamond ring down a roadside grate, she tied him to a piece of string, dangled him like a human yo-yo into the grate, and he retrieved her jewelry!

Oh, Calvin, you knew Flat Stanley, too. How I miss you both!

Yes, Flat Stanley started it all: my fascination with physics and my lifelong love affair with fantastical what-if-they-were-true stories.

Eventually Stanley and I broke up. I moved on and let other boys take me on wild adventures: First there was Henry Huggins. Then Alec Ramsey (my first real literary crush ~sigh~). Then Huck & Tom. Johnny Tremain. Bilbo & Frodo. Arthur & Lancelot. And hundreds of others.

Oh, I had girlfriends, too. Nancy Drew and I were very close. And Lucy Pevensie and I were practically inseparable. But the boys were my favorites. In real life, I couldn't be bothered with them (something for which my mother remains thankful to this day), but they heavily populated my reading.

This is why I found novelist Robert Lypsite's recent article "Boys and Reading: Is There Any Hope?"  in the New York Times, so disturbing. “Boys don’t read,” it trumpets. A publishing executive is quoted saying that girls are publishers' primary readership. They want stories "about mean girls, gossip girls... and vampires." So that’s what gets published.

In other words, if you're a YA reader, you get to choose: Bullies or Bella.

Bother.

Though Huffington Post writer Charles London posits that “Boys today are consuming more text than at any time in human history. Adults simply are not valuing the reading that boys are doing,” it doesn’t change the publishers’ tune:

Boys don’t read. So male protagonists don’t sell.

I refuse to believe this. Here's what I suspect is closer to the truth: Boys don't read what's being published, so publishers have written them off.

I have to confess, if my primary options for topics to read about were “mean girls, gossip girls, and vampires,” I doubt I’d be a reader either.  Does this mean that for every Bully Book that gets published, a book with the potential to be this generation’s Hardy Boys or Encyclopedia Brown gets rejected? Probably.

That’s not only tragic. It borders on the criminal.

What do you mean, “male protagonists don’t sell?” With that kind of attitude, kids will never meet another Harry Potter, Eragon, Artemis Fowl, or Stanley Yelnats. They won't meet characters they can relate to who to protect the weak, push through to the end even when things look bleak, and stand their ground and attempt the impossible.

Boys (and many, many girls) are not interested in choosing between Team Edward or Team Jacob. They could care less about bitchy frenemies. Frankly, statistics show that many prefer nonfiction to fiction. So why not give it to them?

Isn't publishing more books that cater to a different audience and create more lifelong readers way-the-heck more preferable than wringing our hands and lamenting the loss of the literary Y chromosome? 'Cause, frankly, if publishing sticks to the Bitches & Bloodsuckers route, odds are they're going to lose a lot of girls, too...

For great stats, advice, and titles hand-picked by guys for guys, check out Guys Read. Want to add your two cents to the discussion? Chime in on the comments. (No mean girls or vampires, if you please.)

Photos by Kevin Rosseel

First Benchmark for "First Book"

In our house, kids and books go together like peanut butter and jelly. Like syrup and pancakes. Like ketchup on french fries. It seems like my daughter has been reading ever since she's been born.

Reading is so prevalent in "Hendricksonville" that we tend to take a passion for the written word for granted. We can't imagine our lives without the joy of books.

First Book is a non-profit organization that understands the vital importance of literacy. First Book provides free books to children in need year-round. It has earned a top rating of four-stars by Charity Navigator, with more than 92% of donations going directly to their programs and less than 8% going to administrative costs and overhead.

When Kelly Smith decided to take me up on my Goal Posts challenge, First Book is the non-profit she chose to champion in her quest to finish her historical novel this year. I am honored to be one of her charter supporters. Today, the last day of January, I was thrilled to hear that she had met her first goal!

Yay, Kelly!

Want to encourage a writer and do some good in the world? Contact Kelly and sign up to be a supporter!

Want to make your own goals count to more than just you? Make your own Goal Post commitment. Good luck! And let me know when you've made your first benchmark!

Let the Judging Begin...

Updates From the Front of the 3-Day Novel Contest

I received word from the Powers That Be in the 3-Day Novel Contest that my manuscript has been received and logged and is now with their judging committee.

Since my entry has been officially processed, I get banner-display bragging rights (see accompanying "I Survived..." pic). I find this oddly gratifying, and suddenly have a greater understanding of the importance of war medals.

And now, of course, those of us who entered the fray must return to our normally scheduled lives while The Committee spends the next few months reading (and hopefully rereading) the submissions and debating their favorites.

In my mind's eye, I see several harried readers half-hidden behind stacks of submissions. Each desperately searches for a manuscript to love. Each knows that the likelihood of doing so is roughly the equivalent of finding one's Perfect Life Partner during happy hour at a singles bar. Hope, however, burns eternal. But time marches on, and no reader can spend too much time on any one manuscript because there are still so many others awaiting perusal. I envision an overworked coffeepot, boxes marked "Yes!" "No!" and "Kill Me, Kill Me Now!" and a stash of donuts to give the calorie-laden courage necessary to begin reading another draft.

The winners will be announced in mid-January, 2010. In the meantime, we are free to work on our drafts however we see fit (I am already inflicting portions on the Writing Practicum members), though we are reminded to save a copy in its original form.

Because of the cataloging process, they don't yet have total figures of entries for this year's contest. One wonders just how many of us were gluttons for such punishment. Best of luck to all who entered -- I feel a certain affinity with them, based largely on a shared lack of sleep.

I'm currently working on a book project that takes one elite athlete's insights, training tips, and strategies and applies them to Real Life. It's shaping up to be a fascinating look at what makes people successful -- no matter what arena they choose to compete in. One of the big tentpole tenets is simply: once you've raised the bar, that level of performance becomes your new norm.

I know that writing a novel in less than 3 days raised the bar on my craft. I would strongly recommend the experience to any writer. Though the contest has been over for weeks now, I continue to benefit from it.

Yesterday, I spent 5 hours working on a new novel. I completed 5 pages. Before the 3-Day contest, I'd have been content with that. Now, I'm not. I've been on the front lines of battle and lived to tell about it. I have a better understanding of what I am capable of. I know I have it in me to do better...

In Praise of Readers

Too often, writers forget that they have a dual audience. While it is true that we must write the things that move us, it is also true that we owe our readers our best.

In the past, I have worked with clients who came perilously close to forgetting this tenet. Ah, but the public is not clueless. And the moment a writer begins to think of the readers with distain (about the same time that writer begins to describe him- or herself with superlatives), the pact a writer makes to the reader has been broken.

My favorite moment in any movie is when the screen goes completely black just before the film begins. It is fraught with promise and possibility. Likewise, my favorite moment in any new book is sitting down with it and opening the cover. I am full of anticipation, and I hope the story will move me. I want the words to affect me. I want the book to become an all-time favorite.

Don't delude yourself: words don't make great writers. Readers do. Consider the amazing event that occurs when a writer's words leap off the page, engage the mind, and force a reader to consider the bold new possibilities presented by a new arrangement of 26 innocuous letters and a few punctuation marks!



No wonder we become fans of people who can craft words that affect us! Being a writer is akin to a sacred trust. When writers begin to think that their thoughts are all that matters, those writers allow pride to blind them to their readers.

I'm not suggesting for a moment that writers should lower their standards and write schlock in an effort to be all things to all people. But every writer should consider the reader a beacon of light on the creative landscape. The reader should inform every word, every turn of phrase, and every edit -- and the thought of one's readers should constantly encourage the writer to push the limits to deliver his or her very best work.

"Stupid is as Stupid Does"

or, Not As Incompetent As I Feared...

I thought the time was right to put a new wrinkle in my brain. With so many writing projects in the works, so many people contacting me with writing-related concerns, and so many writers asking questions about the protocol of using social networking to promote their writing, I felt that the only thing to do was develop a professional "Page" on FaceBook.

I reasoned that I would endure the learning curve and then use the FB Professional Page to communicate with those interested in writing and in my ongoing projects without annoying my personal "friends" with work-related updates.

So, I spent some time creating a barely-ready-for-people-to-see FaceBook Page. Since it was so easy to have this blog automatically import to my personal page, I figured it would be a proverbial piece of cake to do the same with my Pro Page...

But I couldn't figure out how to do it.

Techno-Geek that I am NOT, I wrestled with the problem. I tried every setting, clicked on every "help" button, fiddled with the templates for both the blog and for FB. I tried to remember how I'd gotten the personal page to do the import, and got increasingly upset with my stupidity. Reasoning that eventually even the blind pig finds an acorn, I kept picking away at it for the past TWO DAYS.

So it was with twin emotional waves of both vindication and utter incredulity that I discovered the following post on a FB Help Forum:

"I have a personal page - and then I have a page that I am an admin for - I want to import our blog posts into the notes of the page I am the admin for, but it seems my only option is my personal page?"

This was posted a month ago, with at least two others chiming in that they had the same problem. No answer has (as yet) been provided.



This all just goes to show that Winston Groom was right when he had Forrest Gump's mom tell him "Stupid is as stupid does."

Though I may have been initially elated to discover that I wasn't quite as incompetent as I had feared, the fact that I wasted significant portions of two days of my working life trying to figure out how to do something that those geekier than I cannot do doesn't say much about my relative IQ...

In Other News...

My co-writer Paul and I spent most of the day re-writing and polishing the Marathon Man script. Thanks to a community theater group's roundtable reading of the screenplay last weekend, we discovered that a major character could be whittled down to nearly nothing, and the story would thrive without him.

So, we pulled out all of his scenes, distilled the essence of what we wanted him to accomplish, and re-inserted him into the story -- a stronger character, though one with significantly reduced screen time.

Listening to the recording of the actors reading the script is an interesting exercise in humiliation. (Did I actually write that? What on earth was I thinking? No one would actually say those words out loud...) I now understand a little bit of why many actors don't like to watch their own performances. I have discovered that I REALLY don't like to hear a lot of my scenes read. They sound SO different than I "hear" them.

We have another roundtable reading scheduled with a different group of actors in Sonoma at the beginning of next month. All are completely unfamiliar with this project and will be reading it cold. With any luck, we'll have the lines polished to where they sound they same in real life as they do in my head...

A Nation of Non-Readers

A recently released AP Poll(with an accuracy rate of plus or minus 3 percent) found that one quarter of all American adults read no books last year!

As a writer, this is brutal news.

True, there are others on the opposite end of the Reader Spectrum. One woman polled read approximately 70 books last year -- more than one a week. She's an older woman, with arguably more free time to read. She comes from a generation that was taught the importance of reading for one's self, envisioning the printed page in the mind's eye, and making up one's own mind.

What will become of this and future generations who do not find the same joy and value in the written word?

Reading occupies an entirely different set of mental muscles than watching a movie, watching TV, or playing video games. Reading is an engaged activity that allows two different minds -- the writer's and the reader's -- to meet without an electronic interface.

Reading allows one to connect with others on a cellular level. Through their writing, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Xenophon, William Shakespeare, and the Apostle Paul, for instance, are alive and well in this day and age.

Reading enables us to wrestle with others' ideas and learn from history.

But, according the this recent poll, one in four don't read.

They work.

They probably watch.

But they don't wonder enough to find out why.