My Creative Burnout

I’m ten days into the worst burnout of my life. I’ve discovered, in times like these, it’s a challenge to answer the seemingly simple question: “how are you?” The polite lie is what most people want, and that’s fine, but when you say enough polite lies you soon lie to yourself too. Out of my own frustration I’ve started surprising people with honest answers. Perhaps I’m just bored with the lie, or maybe I’m hoping honest conversations with people I don’t know that well can help free something stuck inside me. I know that burnout, like its older and more dangerous cousin depression, is a serious thing. And most people, most of the time, are terrified of talking about serious things. I want to talk about mine. I’m not afraid and I don’t want you to be afraid either.

Eleven years ago I wrote How To Survive Creative Burnout, back before my first book was published. I reread the post this week and there’s valuable advice there. If I think of my creative motivation as a horse, it must be rested in a fair ratio to how hard I work it, especially if I expect the horse to work well for many years. But somehow we imagine our minds as transcendent, free from the natural balance of work and rest. We know crops must be rotated and seeds take time to grow. But in our work centric culture to admit to anyone, much less ourselves, that we’re past our limit comes with shame. It’s part of the cult of busy we live in. And as with all emotions it’s the feelings we have about our feelings that do more harm that the initial feelings themselves.

My past burnouts have lasted just days. Two or three times a year I’ll fall out of rhythm with myself.  I’ve been there enough times that I even have a routine. I stop all work, and reschedule meetings, so I can have a day or two where I’m doing as little work as possible, possibly none at all. Free to do anything, or nothing, as I choose. My chosen career requires some significant sacrifices, but a major benefit is on most days I answer to no one. When I need time for myself it’s there for me to take it. Sometimes I’ll spend more time with friends and try to recharge from their energy. Often I go see a matinee film or two, or perhaps a long walk or a marathon of video games. My wife knows I’m in one of these phases when she comes home from work and finds me on the couch, a place I almost never visit during the day, in a position so deeply nested into the cushions it looks like I was absorbed into the furniture.

But as I write this I’m more than a few days in and my standard routine has only had limited effects. I’ve thought about it hard and there was no acute trigger. Nothing specifically bad has happened to me recently. And this is where talking about burnout, or depression, with people becomes  frustrating for everyone. We want a singular reason, a primary  cause. Most people want to help you find the thorn in your side and take it out, and when you express there is no singular thorn, the script they know is useless. Instead of a bad day or a major rejection I simply feel a slow grinding away of something important has taken place. Something big and heavy that I need has moved and there’s no quick way to move it back.

But I am successfully past the judgements of myself: I stopped feeling bad about feeling bad. It’s OK for a time to be very far from my imagined potential and to be far away on purpose. It’s OK to grant myself patience. It’s OK to vacate. I don’t have to like it completely, but I do need to do it. Reading through my journals I realize I’ve been on my own as a writer for a long time now, without the morale benefits of working on a team, or the security of a steady paycheck. Maybe I need a new circle of creative friends. Or I need to do collaborative projects where I have a partner or two to share everything with. Perhaps there’s a five year or ten year habit that I need, something like what Sagmiester calls a creative sabbatical. I don’t know yet. I doubt there’s one thing alone I need to do. Perhaps this new challenge will just work itself out or I’ll have to find some new habits, short and long term, to keep on working towards my life goal.

Over this week I’ve thought much about who I am and what I’m trying to do. It’s a pleasant surprise that when I shut things down and take more deliberate time to play, rest, wander and ponder, that I slowly make realizations I’d be unlikely to make any other way. I hate the phrase “things happen for a reason”, but I do believe when something happens I can put effort in to make meaning from it.

I know that for most of my my life I’ve found it natural to care about ideas enough to chase them. I’m often described as intense or passionate and I take those words as compliments. My motivation is not accidental. I believe certain things should be done before I die and that belief sustains me. This belief has been my preferred fuel for the hard work of writing a book, preparing for a lecture or doing anything interesting at all.

But that fuel hasn’t been consistent lately. It fades easily. I’m more prone to false starts. Apathy is friendlier now and familiar. It’s a frequent struggle to stay motivated. And unlike the burnouts I’ve experienced before I find myself asking the question: “so what?” Why is working so hard important? Many people who are continually productive are miserable, or worse, produce little of value. Maybe it’s better to live a life where you work only as much as you need to, so that there’s more time left for living? I love to work hard but that’s not all that I love. And given I have a fulfilling, fun and comfortable life, I must decide if what’s going on for me is a problem, a blessing, or some of both. I don’t know yet what it means or what I’m going to do about it, but wanted to share it with you anyway. Knowing how many of you read my work for the honesty I offer it seemed only fair that I share this with you while I’m in it.

Thanks for reading. Words of encouragement are welcome. Better would be to share a story of your own burnout experience. We all, legends included, have our times with too much fire and not enough. And maybe if we share those stories openly we can help each other along.

(Read the excellent comments, or jump to part two)

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How to Ignore Pessimistic Family and Friends

[Every Tuesday I write about the top voted question on Ask Berkun. This week’s question is from Gord, with 39 votes]

How can dreamers and young entrepreneurs ignore pessimistic family and friends? Many dreams get snuffed when friends and family are wildly unsupportive. The awkward dinner chats are anything but helpful when your life’s vision means not becoming a dutiful employee.

Negative voices don’t sound as loud if they are not the only ones you listen to. Of the people you know, one will be more supportive than the others and it’s your job to figure out who that is and reach out to them to get the support you need.

It’s important to remember that change is scary for most people. When your family hears you talk about making a change they subconsciously experience their own fears. And since they care about you they naturally project their fears in your direction. It’s partially out of love that they’re not being as supportive as you’d like. From Changing Your Life Is Not A Midlife Crisis:

To see a friend change is scary because it challenges the assumptions we have about ourselves. To watch a friend find a new career, partner or city forces us to question why we’re not doing the same, questions we spend most days trying not to ask.

You will need to do something to wake them up out of their default answers. It will take work for them to see that their own fears, and dreams, aren’t necessarily yours. And it will take work for you to see that despite your dreams, some of their concerns might be valid enough to consider. You likely have your own defensive habits that you fall back into when challenged, which helps your family see you as the person you were, not the person you’re trying to become.

To shake people out of their habitual thoughts, try communicating in a different medium. The family dinner table is a poor place to get people to understand your deepest feelings. Instead of being cornered during a meal, take the initiative. Make an appointment with your mother, father or friend to talk privately. Have the discussion on your terms: “Dad, I know you want the best for me. But I’ve thought hard about this. This is something I want to do with my life. I want your support but will do it without it if I have to.”

Change the conversation to be about what good support means to you and explicitly request it. You’ll be surprised how a change in how the conversation happens changes people’s responses. Often people respond to tough conversations better in other mediums. Trying writing a personal letter that explains how you feel. No one can interrupt a letter. You’ll also be forced to think more clearly about what you feel and what you want to say by writing it down. If you don’t like writing, make a video message. Unlike dinner conversation, you can practice making a video until you’re satisfied with how you express yourself.

Sometimes people need to see how fully committed you are before they’ll see you and your dreams differently. You might need to start working on your dream before anyone else will take your seriously. Talk is just talk, but if you start taking steps towards your dream, reducing your expenses, moving to a more affordable apartment, going back to school, or even quitting your job, it will be harder to dismiss you and your dream.

But don’t see your goal as simply learning to ignore your friends and family. Knowing who your Doubting Thomas is can be an asset. There will be good questions and critical feedback you will need to hear to be successful, but if everyone around you is pathologically supportive you won’t hear those things. You want to have a balance of support, some emotional, some logical, some supportive, some doubting, that combined helps you both emotionally and practically. A wise critic is an asset provided they are not your primary source of encouragement.

Don’t see friends and family as confining your life. If you are an adult you have the power to redefine any relationship you have. You can work to make any relationship healthier, deeper, narrower or wider. But it is work (Start with books like Difficult Conversations). You can also commit yourself to making new friends who have more respect for your ambitions. From Should I Quit My Job Now:

Find your support team. Ask your friends, your spouse, your colleagues, and find a small group of people who will support you and help you out as you start this new thing. You will need to know who can help when need it, who will encourage you and who will give you tough feedback you need to hear. Line up your support team before you make the leap.  It might surprise you how people react to your decision, so sort it out early. You may be surprised by who commits to helping you and who only resists.

Redefining your relationships is a good first step towards an independent life: you will face many situations where your ability to relate to people will be tested. You will have to make decisions without enough information, money or time. You will need to decide who to trust, and when, and how to earn the trust of others. If you’re blocked on what your mother thinks of your decisions, how will you handle the relationship challenges of running a company? The sooner you learn how to make your own choices, and take responsibility for the consequences, the better your life will be.

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Irreverent Roundup of Writing Advice (Q&A)

[Every Tuesday I write about the top voted question on Ask Berkun. This week it’s a roundup of unanswered questions about writing]

Question #1. I have been writing a book for 12 years, it is a fantastic story of fiction that grabs you from the beginning and is relatable to almost everyone. I have the beginning the middle and the climax, i have characters, names, sub plots and actually very good characters that you care about and cant wait to turn the next page. My problem dialogue. I have the words but the grammar and punctuation is a problem. Is there a ghost writer who could polish the dialogue and punctuation for me? The total word count is about 66,000 to 70,000. 20 people have read the basic concept of the book and all are crazy about the story and the ideas in the book. I think I have a pot of gold waiting to be published I just need a little push in the right direction. I am not a professional writer but this idea is classic grab you and not let go excitment that could be the next blockbuster movie, I am not kidding it is that good and original. Please help me with any input that you may have. Thank you for your time.

I must make an uncomfortable point. Your question is mostly not a question, but sentences about how awesome your book is. Why do you think I would care? Every writer thinks their idea is amazing and even if yours actually is it’s irrelevant to the advice you seek. Your excitement here is useful to you, but not to me.

Put another way: You will only get one chance to pitch agents, editors or readers on your book. The place to start is not what you think of it as you are the most biased person in the universe to judge its merit. Whatever you say do it thoughtfully. Be concise. If you can’t be concise, at least be excellent (and have no typos or spelling errors to distract me from your excellence). But the misguided way you wrote this does not bode well for your 66,000 to 70,000 word manuscript (and how do you not know precisely how long it is?)

A few web searches will find answers to most of your questions. It’s smart when asking for free advice from an expert, to explain what other avenues you’ve tried. If you haven’t tried any don’t be surprised if they think you’re lazy. And no agent, editor or reader wants to read lazy writing.

A good copyeditor will review your manuscript for grammar and punctuation. Some copyeditors will revise your dialog for you, but you’ll pay more for that level of attention. You can find copyeditors looking for work on odesk or freelancer.com or through Writer’s Digest. Ghostwriters can be found in similar fashion, but what you seem to want is a ghostrewriter which might be harder to find. On the DIY front there are plenty of books that attempt to teach dialog to writers: start with Dialog: Technique and Exercises and The Emotional Thesaurus (though this one is not strictly about dialog, but about when dialog isn’t the best way to express a character’s emotions).

2. Should I use real names when writing a book about the physical, emotional, and sexual abuse I went through by my parents?

Don’t let this question slow you down. You can postpone this decision until after you’ve written a first draft. It’s an easy adjustment to make and you’re likely to have better judgement about it once you can sit down and read the whole thing. Real names means there is a higher standard of truth to satisfy as readers, and the people you mention, will read your book differently if you call it a memoir vs. fiction. See: Should Your Book Be a Memoir or Fiction?

3. How do i go about writing with a sencond language? I have this book idea I’ve started on and the main characters talk English, but some of the other characters dont. Is there a way to do this without creating a whole new language?

Snarkgarlal mergle bergle fimbar sniP? Icky Snickersta Reb nagga na. That’s a language I just invented to answer your question. Did you like it? I doubt it since I made it up and you can’t possibly know what it means. Why wouldn’t you use an existing language like Spanish or French that some of your readers might actually know? There are some books that invent new languages: A Clockwork Orange for example. You should study books like this and see if the effect it has for the reader is worth all the trouble. I’d think probably not. Unless part of your narrative is a puzzle and readers can figure out the meanings of words, or puzzles, as the book progresses this seems like an unnecessarily hard experience for you as the writer and your potential readers.

4a. What is your opinion of writing a book on my personal life and “rare” medical struggles? My childhood was rough, to put it lightly, I was diagnosed with a rare form of bone cancer in my early 20’s (which cost me my military career in the Army) but kept moving forward and created a mildly successful career for myself and now, in my mid 30’s, am permanently disabled with ongoing surgeries and uncertain future. BUT, I am not a quitter and refuse to lose “the fight”. What do you think?

4b. How do you write a book about hard times in your life? Writing down all the bad hurtful stuff I went through during my abusive divorce I want to write a book about it, is this the right way to start?

I’m sad that you have had hard struggles in your life and I commend you for being introspective enough to want to write about tough times. But I have no opinion of you writing a book. I don’t know anything about how well you write or how much effort you are willing to put in. The idea itself for a book doesn’t matter much nor does the interesting life of the potential writer. Interesting ideas for books are easy (even though your life may have been difficult) and interesting people are not hard to find. What matters is how much effort and talent they, or you, can put into finishing a 200 or 300 page book. Are you willing to do the hard work?

I think anyone who believes deeply about an idea for a book should write it. It’s good for the writer and possibly good for the world. But for nearly all authors the external rewards of writing a book will feel like a sacrifice. Most books don’t sell well and few authors become famous enough to make a living from it, or to compensate them above minimum wage for their time. This means external motivations alone are the wrong source. Only you can decide you care enough about the book to do all the hard work to write it. See: Is Your Book Idea Good? (Yes, I Promise).

There are many different ways to start writing and it doesn’t matter much which one you pick as long as you pick one. The goal is always to get to the next draft, as in each draft the work gets progressively easier. All ways of starting invariably feel like work because, surprise!, writing a book is a kind of work. See: How To Start Writing A Book.

5. How Do You Blog About A Book In Progress? I’m a somewhat experienced writer, but one without an established online “author platform.” (Dare I admit I don’t even have a basic portfolio website?) I now realize how crucial it is I start building my platform, and have read about the value of blogging about a book while writing it. My questions include: Do you blog under your name (even if it’s widely unknown), a working title for the book, or, absent that, a title that hints at the book’s content? Is it OK for your book blog to also market yourself as a freelance writer for topics that might be unrelated? Is there value in explaining the blog’s context — for example, “I am a writing a book on topic X and here I share what I find along the way?” Finally, what types of content should and should not be shared?

Why wouldn’t you blog under your own name? It’s not like a made up name will be any more well known than yours (unless the “made up” name you pick is Stephen King or John Updike). Stick with the name your parents gave you. Name the website something short, simple and that can be relevant no matter what topic your book ends up being about. Your comedic space opera might end up being a gluten free cookbook, and if that happens you won’t want to have to change the name of the website.

There is no singular way to blog about a book in progress and I wouldn’t wait to find a perfect method. Aim for a mix of short posts about articles or other people’s work related to your project, and sample drafts or ideas from your book. You will have to experiment and learn as you go. My advice is to grab a blog, commit to publishing something short once a week and see what happens. Go find other author sites and see how they blog about a book in progress (you can usually go into their archives to read their earliest posts, which you can compare to your early posts) Have a simple About page on your site that briefly explains who you are, what you’re doing and why. For advice on the challenges of working blog posts into an edited book, see How To Turn Your Blog Into A Book.

Since most authors, even some famous ones, make most of their living from means other than book royalties of course it’s ok to market yourself as a freelance writer. Some popular blogs like Brainpickings even ask for monthly donations to support the blog itself.

You’ll have to experiment to discover what kinds of content your readers want, since you don’t have any blog readers yet. If you’re writing a book about space aliens it makes sense that posts about NASA or science fiction films make sense, but ones about recipes for bran muffins do not.

6. Can I use first and third person in the same novel?

Of course. You are the writer and can do what you like. If Celine rarely used periods or Wright wrote a novel without the letter E there are clearly no hard rules. The question is will anyone want to read what you write given the choices you make. Here’s a list of novels that have switched between first and third person and you should study them.

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What Questions Never Leave You?

[Each Tuesday I take the top voted question from readers and answer it (submit yours here).  With 119 votes, this week’s winner was submitted by Max]

To answer the question about what questions never leave me I skimmed through my journal. Few people keep them anymore and I don’t understand why: it’s a secret weapon for sell discovery. A diary is a time travel device anyone can make. It lets you jump back in time and see what you truly thought in the past, which is very different than what you believe you thought. Human memory is terrible and reading a journal you discover hidden patterns in your thoughts and feelings you might never discover any other way. Writing in a diary today is a gift to the future version of ourselves.

I didn’t find many questions in my journal. There were certainly some, on average one per entry, but is that a lot? Since I have no basis for comparison I don’t know if the number I found was low, high or average. And of course most of my thoughts stay in my head, never making it into my journal which means at best my list below is a guess. I considered the questions I believe I ask myself often, but since I wrote it knowing it would be published it might be biased towards ones that sound impressive, rather than ones I truly ask myself often.

Death is a powerful motivator and is often on my mind. It’s no surprise many of my questions center on time and how I use it, as do the rules I live by. Since I ask these questions often I have answers to them that rarely change, which suggests I need to ask myself why they haven’t changed in a long time.

  • Is there any point to existence, or the universe, at all?
  • What is the best way to live given what I know, what I don’t know and what I can’t know?
  • What are the meanings of my life that I have chosen?
  • Is my time aligned with my goals?
  • Am I giving time to the people I care about most?
  • Am I giving time to the ideas and beliefs I care about most?
  • Are my actions aligned with my beliefs?
  • Am I taking my life seriously enough?
  • Am I enjoying life and not taking life too seriously?
  • How am I not myself?
  • What am I hiding from?
  • Am I pushing myself and loving myself?
  • What assumptions am I making that I don’t realize?
  • What blind spots do I have that are hurting me or others?
  • What questions have I forgot to ask myself?
  • Should my answers to these questions change?

What questions do you find yourself asking often over your life?

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Starting Today: Berkun Book Club / Making Things Happen

lrg (1)One of my most popular books, Making Things Happen, was published 10 years ago. Originally titled The Art of Project Management, this very popular book on leading and managing projects started my career as an author. I’m grateful to still be writing books with enough success to write about many subjects.

To celebrate I’m rereading the book and I’m inviting you to read it with me.

When: It starts TODAY March 9th, and you can sign up here.
Where: On goodreads. But live Q&As will be hosted elsewhere.

Each week we’ll cover a two chapters, you can ask questions which I’ll answer, we’ll schedule live Q&As and you’ll get far more than your money’s worth for what you paid for the book. You’ll likely witness me arguing with myself as I know I don’t agree with everything I wrote back then. Who knows, it might lead to a sequel or new writing about ideas in the book that haven’t aged well.

Interested? Join the group on GoodReads, which makes it easy to have discussions and follow along.

If you don’t own the book, now is a great time to grab a copy. You can read chapter 1 free online here. Hope you’ll join.

How To Write A Memoir

The Ghost of My Father has received some of the best reviews of all six of my books. I’m grateful to all 247 of my kickstarter backers for supporting this ambitious project about family, memory and making sense of myself.

Recently I did a live Q&A about How To Write A Memoir. It was a reward for the book’s backers. This post is a summary of the advice I shared. Thanks to everyone who tuned in and asked questions (and helped me keep the lights on).

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1. The two truths of writing anything

There are only two things you need to write any kind of book.

  1. Good habits. Books take time to write which means your success depends on regular habits. It’s a marathon. I know the way my psychology works I either need to write every day or I won’t write at all. It’s a muscle I have to use regularly to have it perform the way I want it to. How does your psychology work? You need to know. My advice is simple: have a set time every day, before you go to work, after dinner, before you go to bed, that is permanently reserved and protected by hungry Rottweilers, for writing. It needs to be something you do daily without debating each time.
  2. Commitment. Your writing time will come from somewhere. You’ll need to give up one TV-show a night, spend less time with friends and family, or get up earlier each day. No writer in history has written anything without sacrificing time they could have spent on something else. And when you show up for each writing session turn everything else off that distracts you. You might only put a sentence or two down a day, but if you keep showing up that’s all you need to eventually finish a book. If I don’t feel like writing I’ll show up to my session anyway and commit myself to sitting and thinking about the project, or staring at the blank page. That’s commitment. Usually I’ll get so frustrated in a few minutes with how idiotic I feel having nothing to say that I’ll eventually start writing about that. And then, soon, I discover I do have something to say about the book I’m working on, and before I know it I’m writing. But I have to show up and put the time in. There is no other way.

When people fail with a writing project there are only two causes: bad habits or lack of commitment. If you are committed you will continue to experiment with your habits until you find one that works for you. And if you only manage a paragraph a day, as long as you are patient you will, eventually, have a finished draft. But there is no trick to avoid the work: every writer in history had to put in the hours and you will too.

2. What books or resources do you recommend for writing a memoir?

  1. Read what you want to write. How many memoirs have you read? Go read some. You can’t write well in any genre unless you are well read in it. You’ll discover how many different ways there are to approach point of view, style, tone, pace, chronology and more. Here’s a list of memoirs I recommend.
  2. Thinking About Memoir, by Abigail Thomas. A simple, short book that explores the basic concepts of what a memoir is and how they work. It includes writing exercises and encouragement. There are many basic books like this one, but I liked it’s concision and straightforward style.
  3. The Art of Time in Memoir, Sven Birkerts. If you write a first draft and read it, you’ll discover the core challenge of memoir is how you, as the narrator, move through time. It’s the spine that makes a memoir work or not. Of all the books I read about memoir writing, it was this book that helped the most with the central challenge of time. The book referred to many memoirs I’d never read before, which I needed to read (at least partially) to fully understand his points, but that was time (ha ha) well spent. The only way to understand the different ways to handle time was to read another writer and experience the choices they’d made.
  4. How To Write A Memoir. This short Reader’s Digest post by Joe Kita is surprisingly good and honest.

3. A memoir is not an autobiography.

A memoir is a true story about an aspect of your life. An autobiography is a comprehensive telling of you life story. This gets confusing because we often hear politicians or celebrities talk about writing “their memoirs“, as in plural, which really means autobiography. Autobiographies are much harder to do well, often span 600 pages and are far less interesting to most people.

A memoir has more creative freedom in the themes, narrative styles and storytelling techniques you can use. There are memoirs about childhood, travel, family, competitive sports, starting a company, almost anything. Rebecca Solnit bends the very idea of memoir by combining elements of history, personal stories and journalism together. The unifying factor is the the book is a true story told in the first person about events that primarily happened to the narrator on a singular theme (at least in the writer’s mind).

4. You have a secret reason for writing (a memoir). Figure out what it is.

My friend, and trained therapist, Vanessa Longracre was my expert guest during the Q&A. She pointed out that many people think they know why they want to write a memoir, but possess a secret, and more honest, reason. That honest reason might be:

  • This will solve my problems
  • My estranged father/mother will do X for the first time
  • Everyone will know the TRUTH about my brother and will shun/love/hate him
  • I’ll finally get the apology I deserve

Having written a book is unlikely to achieve any of these things. Certainly not by itself. A book can be cathartic and the process of writing it can help you think and feel more carefully helping you to understand yourself better. But the fundamental dynamics of a family  relationship have very deep causes that are unlikely to be influenced by the existence of a book alone. Do some research and see if other memoir writers got their secret reason satisfied (See this story about a new memoir about a the troubled McCandless family)

People telling you “you have a great story you should write a book” is an insufficient reason. Unless they are gifting you 500 hours of time to do the work, it’s not help. You have to decide your own reasons, the primary one being that you believe it’s a good use of your time to write a book about yourself. I get emails often asking me “Is my book idea good?” and I tell them the same thing: only you can answer that question. My opinion is irrelevant since you will have to do the work.

It’s okay if you don’t know. And it’s ok if your answer changes as you’re writing. But realize you probably have a fantasy about your motivations.  You’ll write a better memoir if you dig deep to sort out what it is you are truly after.

5. Why did you write The Ghost of My Father? What did you want to get out of it?

When this crisis happened in my family I talked to my mother and brother often. These were long, intimate conversations about our family and how we felt about what was happening. It’s a crazy story and we’d laugh at times about how absurd it was. I said to both of them “this should be a book” and they agreed. I don’t know at the time they knew how serious I was, but I’m a writer.  This is what I do. A powerful, complicated true story landed on me and I committed myself to telling it.

I wrote it for many reasons. First, I was obsessing about my father and my family and I needed a constructive place to put that energy. Second, I’m a writer who wants to take risks and this was going to be a different kind of book. Third, all families have problems. What we don’t have are the skills and courage to talk about them. I felt if I told my story well it could help readers figure themselves out. This is what good art is supposed to do: help us understand the human condition.

6. There is power in writing without publishing.

I’ve kept a private journal since I was 19 years old. It started as a class assignment, and most of my early entries are embarrassingly shallow attempts to impress the professor. But after the class I kept writing in it. I found that trying to explain whatever I was thinking or feeling in words had a power, even if no one read it. It forced me to think and feel carefully, and when I wrote something down, even if it was expression of confusion or uncertainty, I always felt like a burden had been lifted. Seeing the words on the page made me feel more comfortable with myself. And then I discovered that going back to entries in the past and comparing my feelings in the present was transformative. Written words persist far better than our memories do, and writing your thoughts down is a gift to your future self.

You don’t need to publish writing for it to have meaning. You can also choose to share what you write with only with a friend, or family. You can decided after you’ve written a draft whether you want to publish it or not, or who you’ll publish it for.

7. How do you deal with the situations you don’t remember precisely? (e.g. names of places, people, what happened exactly, what people said, etc. )

Writing is never neutral, completely fair or perfectly accurate. There are long debates among writers about what poetic license is, and how far a (non-fiction) writer can go in shaping or crafting true events: it’s a complex subject I’ve written about here.

Human memory is highly unreliable and anyone writing a memoir must admit this. Keeping a journal helps as at least you have a written record of what you thought on the day certain things happened. Interviewing other people who were there when events happened can be critical as two or more sources dramatically improves the quality of the facts.

Most important is to disclose to readers what sources you had. Few memoirs do this and it’s a mistake. In most memoirs quoted passages (e.g.’and then Todd said “this is the worst Atari game I’ve ever played!”‘) are inventions based on one person’s recollection of a conversation. How accurate can this possibly be? Unless the author had a tape recorder playing 20 years ago how could they possibly remember the exact quote someone said? They can’t. But written storytelling works better when this kind of precision is provided, so many writers claim poetic license to fill in these gaps.

I think whatever you do is ok provided you explain to the reader somewhere what you did or didn’t do. Here’s what I included on the first page of The Ghost of My Father:

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8. Were there periods of doubt while writing this book that were more severe or different than what you have experienced before? Were your habits always strong enough to alleviate these doubts? If not, what parts of your life helped you rebound?

Yes. All ambitious projects come with periods of doubt. If I work on something and never have doubts it means I wasn’t ambitious enough. This is my most personal book and everyone in my family who is in the book is still alive. But I’m a writer. This is what I do.

The habit that matters the most is having faith in the next draft. In each draft I had a chance to reconsider what stories I told and how I told them. I had 5 people read early drafts of the book, people who I know are honest with me about their feedback.

9. Did you have any fears or concerns about how being this vulnerable, personal and open would impact your perception and opportunities with your harder core business audience?

I’ve had some practice with sharing private thoughts publicly. I wrote a popular book in 2009 called Confessions of a Public Speaker, so I’ve confessed on some things already. My previous book, The Year Without Pants, is a first person story of my experiences leading a team. Of course The Ghost of My Father was far more personal, but the experience with being honest with readers is something I’ve been developing over time.

I want to take risks with talents. To do that means doing things I’m afraid of. I want to bet on fans. If I publish a book they’re not interested in I hope they’ll just wait for the next one.

10. What does a personal memoir need in order to be popular (have high sales) if it’s not about someone who is already in the public eye? Does it need a character arc? Or a realization of a profound truth? What makes it interesting to the reader?

Selling books is harder than writing them. There is no formula. In broad strokes memoirs are harder to sell than novels or non-fiction books. Being famous helps of course as people are interested primarily in the person, not the book. A big part of any book selling well has little to do with the writing of the book. You have to identify the audience, find ways early on to reach out to them, write a great book, and then work hard to let them know you’ve provided something they want.  But the more you write a book to sell it, the less soul the book will have. Making true art demands goals with more depth than sales numbers.

11. Being such a creative mind and tackling so many topics in your blog, how do you decide on a topic & outline for a book? How do you handle “book being already written”, “same old topic”, etc? Really, how do you write great books on topics already addressed?

Every topic has already been addressed many times. So what? If you read the Greek tragedies you’ll discover Shakespeare stole their plot lines. And then if you watch the Lion King you see it’s Hamlet for kids. No one really cares how original it is in the abstract, they care about how good it is in the specific. See It’s Ok To Be Obvious for my take on this philosophy. If you have an opinion go read what someone else said about it. I bet you’ll find you disagree with them or have a better way to express a similar idea. Don’t hide from it, build on it.

11. Did you consider writing it as fiction even if it’s mostly true to avoid the issue of criticism of your decisions?

Telling my story as fiction felt like cheating. Many writers have done this and I’ve often wondered why. Even Charles Bukowski wrote Ham on Rye as a novel, despite it being the story of his childhood. In this case I asked myself: am I telling a true story or not? If I am, why call it a novel and introduce doubts? If I’m a good storyteller why do I need to invent things to make it work? Anyone in my family who read the book as a novel would easily identify who they were. So why the ruse?

My complaint about so many films and TV shows about family is how phony they are. And since these are the primary ways we learn about families other than our own they perpetuate the same fantasy mythology about what real families are like. Where does most of your knowledge about relationships come from? Much of it is from fiction and I think that’s part of the problem. Of course fiction can illustrate some things better than non-fiction, but in some cases the opposite is true.

I know many authors wait until their parents are dead to write about them. This feels like cheating too. Superficially it seems like respect to wait until after someone is dead to write about them. But think about that: it takes away their rights to respond. It’s actually a betrayal. It’s a permanent way to go behind their back. There is nothing in this book I haven’t said, or wouldn’t say, to everyone in my family. Does that make me brave or stupid? Probably some of both. To put it another way: how I can consider someone close to me if there are deep things central to who I am that I can’t share with them? Or share, as an illustrative example, as a writer, with strangers? We talk about transparency and honesty but do we practice it in families? in tribes? Cultures?

You can decide if you want to fictionalize your story later (and here’s advice on how to decide). Don’t get hung up on this. You’ll write many drafts and it’s a decision you can start worrying about once the first draft is done.

12. Did you come to have a different understanding of forgiveness? As a human ability or valuable choice?

I want to say yes, but it’s hard to be sure. The cliche of forgive but not forget is true to me. I don’t hate my father. He is a lost person and I feel sad for him, as he’s his own worst enemy. And I do understand, now, that his failings as a parent have more to do with him than with me. But forgiveness is not a panacea. Dysfunctional families are not fixed through forgiveness alone.  Here’s a more important question: if you are in a relationship that is inherently destructive for you, what obligations do you have to stay in it? And how deeply? That’s not about forgiveness so much as it is about figuring out how to be a healthy person. How do you create healthy boundaries on territory you know is dangerous to you? That’s the hard question. There’s no platitude for solving that one. It’s the struggle most people have in their families: how can I be myself in here? I love these people and they love me, but then why does it hurt so much to get close? It takes hard work to learn healthy expressions of love.

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You can buy The Ghost of My Father on Amazon. Kirkus Reviews called it “A sobering, lucid memoir about the uncanny, precarious nature of family, masculinity and childhood.” Profits from the first edition of the book are donated to Big Brothers Big Sisters.

If you have other questions about writing, or writing a memoir, leave a comment.

How Do You Know When You’re Done?

The more creative the project, the more subjective the answer is for when it’s finished. If the project was to eat an apple for lunch, you’d know you were done when only the core remained (unless you were very hungry and ate the core too). But if the project was to create a powerful dramatic film about a troubled marriage or a believable science fiction novel about a civilization powered by core-less apples, success is not objective. In fact what makes a work loved by some people are exactly the reasons why other people will hate it. Accepting a project as finished means, in part, seeing its flaws but accepting them as necessary to achieve its graces. A perfect work of art, if there is such a thing, would be perfectly boring.

Many people complained, and still complain, about the long, silent sequences in Stanley Kubrik’s 2001 A Space Odyssey. Yet it’s one of the most influential science fiction films of all time. Gauguin, and most of the art world, thought Van Gogh’s paintings were underworked and unrefined. And Gauguin was right in a way. But given what Van Gogh wanted to do they were fantastic. Who is right? No one is really. The value of art is decided by two people: the artist and the viewer. Critics and experts have their say, but if you look at something and appreciate it no one can get in your way. And if you hate it, the fact that it’s famous or won awards only makes you hate it more.

We’ve all read books or seen movies we didn’t think were finished, or good, or worth our time. Some are simply overdone and over the top, and perhaps too done (What Dreams May Come isn’t so much a bad film as it is a saccharine one). We forget that even the films and products we hate took years of effort by people who probably did think they were done. One my favorite books is The Old Man And The Sea, a novel I think is perfect, yet many find it childish and overly simple. There is no one singular answer. And much of the criticism and feedback artists hear is really about the wish of the critic to describe a different work, not necessarily a better one.

I have goals for each book when I start, but the goals shift. I’m learning about my ideas as I try to make them real. Even on a successful book it feels like a spiral going around the same core notions, stretching and tightening with each draft (and loop of the spiral). There are false starts. There are wrong directions. Sometimes the best choice is to pivot: this isn’t a drama, it’s a comedy! And with that single change waves of new energy ripple through the entire work. It’s scary to make big changes, but there are no rewards without risks (and that’s what the undo button is for). But with each draft I expect the scale of the problems to get smaller. Eventually the problems I see are about polish, in sentences or paragraphs, rather than chapters and themes. I believe in testing drafts of work by consuming it the way readers will. If I’m in doubt about a book being finished I’ll sit down and read the entire draft from the first page to the last. I’ll ask honest friends to do the same and listen to their opinions. That’s the only way to refresh in my mind what the draft really is, or isn’t.

Questions to ask if you’re not sure if it’s done:

  • What were you trying to do when you started?
  • What were you trying to do last time you felt you knew what you were doing?
  • How does what it is now compare to what you were trying to do?
  • Have you gotten feedback from someone who will be honest with you? (and not merely give you a pep talk)
  • What do the other key people on the project, or who the project is for, think?
  • Is it finished, but you just don’t like it anymore?
  • Do you not want to do the grunt work required now that the ideas are set?
  • Do you see ways to simplify? You may have 300 pages of a great 200 page book.
  • Put it away for a week or more. Then look at it with fresh eyes. How do you feel now?

Always remember creation requires risk. If you knew for certain what you were making when you started and that you had all the skills required to do it, why bother? If you are ambitious, not all of your projects are going to work out. Every novelist and entrepreneur has abandoned projects over their career (Michelangelo and Da Vinci were notorious for not finishing works). Or released mediocre work into the world (e.g. Bob Dylan). You may decide a project isn’t done, but it needs to be put away for awhile, while you work on something else. That’s fine. Abandoning works isn’t a crime provided that’s not what you do on every project. But all ideas demand grunt work that has to be done. If you’re not committed enough to do the grunt work for your own ideas, who will?

The more works you release into the world and say “it’s done!” the better your judgement will become about when something feels finished to you, the maker. And the less afraid you’ll feel about handling the feedback from the world. Charles Dickens released most of his books a chapter at a time: maybe you need to work in smaller chunks of doneness. Every time you say “it’s finished” you’ll get better at sensing if a project just needs another round of polish, or that it really does need to go back into the shop for an overhaul. Your intuition as a creator needs mileage to get improve and you can’t get it if you never finish anything. You want to be a creator who can look back to past finished projects to compare with the unfinished one you’re working on now. There’s only one way to get there.

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Can bad workplace communication be fixed? An interview with Phil Simon

MNR_final2My friend and fellow author Phil Simon has a new book out today on on one my favorite subjects: the poor state of communication in the working world.

In his new book Message Not Received: Why Business Communication Is Broken and How to Fix It, Simon explains how we got into this mess and what we can do to make things better. I interviewed him about the book and the state of communication culture.

Q: Films like Office Space lampooned the ridiculous jargon and business-speak used in American workplaces. It’s a problem we’ve had for a long time. Why is it so common?

Many reasons. We can start with management consultants, arguably some of the worst purveyors of jargon. They try to make business and management more complicated than it is. Management is a discipline, not a science. There are no immutable laws of management. Period.

Of course, there’s plenty of blame to go around. Many executives bastardize the language, and it’s natural for underlings to ape the words and expressions of their superiors.

I’d also blame marketers and salespeople. Researching the book, I discovered what I intuitively suspected: there’s greater competition than ever to occupy the top result on Google search pages. You can pay to play, but that gets pricey. Ideally, your company, service, or product shows up organically. You don’t do that by parroting the terms used by other companies.

For years many leading minds, including George Orwell, have complained about abuse of language. Are things worse now? Why do you think this is?

You’re right about Orwell, but people have been complaining about the misuse of language for centuries. (Bad English: A History of Linguistic Aggravation is worth checking out.)

In short, yes, things are worse now. There’s the SEO argument (see above). Beyond that, there’s more content that ever out there. When you and I grew up in the 1970s, we were exposed to about 500 ads per day. That number now is 5,000. This is a ten‐fold increase over the past four decades. Even if you believe that the rate at which people use jargon has remained constant, the sheer number has increased. It’s not debatable at this point.

Lastly, we’re living in an era of accelerating technological change. Stalwarts like “friend” (now a verb) and “like” (now a noun) are taking on new meanings. There’s even a dictionary just for Twitter terms.

Neil Postman once wrote “Information is a form of garbage.” How can people more easily spot emails and internal communication that is garbage information? Are there warning signs they can look for?

Let’s start with the quantity of the emails sent. We all know people who send too many. I used to be one of them. In the book, I detail my own Pulp Fiction-like moment of clarity around email. I remember the very day that someone called me out in 2007 for confusing the team.

Some people just send rubbish, but the larger question to me is why something has to be communicated via email in the first place. Over the past two decades, email has become the de facto tool for internal communication. It’s one of the killer apps of the Internet era. As you know from your time at Automattic, that need not be the case.

Let’s say that you and I and some of our friends are scheduling a call. I can send a clear message about my availability, but so what? Even if an email is clearly written, it’s often not the best tool for the job. That goes double for task management, project management, and general collaboration. This is not 1995.

 

In Message Not Received, is there a story of an organization that used to depend on email but switched to modern tools? What can other organizations learn from them?

Chapter 8 contains three case studies of organizations that broke away from email as their primary communications vehicles. I detail a small business, a startup, and a larger company.

There are plenty of lessons that organizations of all sizes can learn from them. First, you don’t need to boil the ocean. You can start in a pocket of the organization and see how a tool takes root. It’s often wise to start small and iterate.

Second, realize that perfect is the enemy of good, to borrow from Voltaire. There’s no one perfect tool. One organization may love HipChat while another prefers Yammer, Jive, or Smartsheet.

Many organizations spend years searching for one, only to stick with deficient technologies at considerable cost. Thanks to cloud computing, open source software, and the freemium model, it’s never been easier to date before you get married.

Finally, don’t try to control your community. The three case studies showed me that tools evolve very organically. For instance, ride-sharing app Sidecar rolled out Jive. Its drivers don’t work in a proper office with, you know….facilities. It quickly became apparent that drivers needed information on the best local lavatories. Sidecar quickly integrated that functionality into Jive.

Most people don’t control their coworkers. If a someone reading this wished their colleagues communicated better, what can they do?

It’s important to remember Hanlon’s Razor: Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity. In the context of your question, remember that most people aren’t actively trying to confuse others. They just don’t realize that they’re bloviating. We all suffer from the curse of knowledge; most of us just aren’t aware of that.

The answer to your question hinges upon a number of factors. Is the person higher up than you on the totem pole? What’s the company culture? Have you known that person for a long time? For instance, in a rigid culture, you might be cutting your own throat by questioning the words of more senior employees, even privately in a diplomatic way. All communication is contextual.

When someone is routinely confusing others, don’t be afraid to call bullshit on jargon. At a minimum, say, “I don’t follow. Could you please explain what you mean by that?” In the words of Albert Einstein, “If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough.” Remember that the word communicate means “to make common.”

Second, resist the temptation to respond via email. I abide by a three-email rule: After three, we talk. I’m not afraid to invoke it, and many groups, people, and organizations would benefit from doing something similar.

Next, ask people to define their terms. I’m a big fan of the active voice and short sentences. Message Not Received is not a tactical book, but I did include some tips on effective communication.

If the problem persists, a more serious conversation is in order. Jargon and excessive email aren’t just fodder for Dilbert cartoons. Horrible business communication is a really big problem. It inhibits true understanding and successful results, never mind overwhelming individual employees. If someone doesn’t take to constructive feedback, a new role and/or job might be in order.

Get Message Not Received on Amazon.

Reading Group: Making Things Happen (Starts now)

lrg (1)One of my most popular books, Making Things Happen, was published 10 years ago. Originally titled The Art of Project Management, this very popular book on leading and managing projects started my career as an author. I’ve moved on to write about many other subjects but this book holds a special place on my bookshelf.

To celebrate I’m rereading the book and I’m inviting you to read it with me. It’s rare to get a chance to read a book with the author and ask questions as you go – I hope you’ll take advantage and join in.

When: It starts March 9th, and you can sign up now.
Where: On goodreads. But live Q&As will be hosted elsewhere.
How: We’ll read two chapters a week. You can join late, just catch up!

Each week we’ll cover a couple of chapters, you can ask questions which I’ll answer, we’ll schedule live Q&As and you’ll get far more than your money’s worth for what you paid for the book. You’ll likely witness me arguing with myself as I know I don’t agree with everything I wrote back then. Who knows, it might lead to a sequel or new writing about ideas in the book that haven’t aged well.

Interested? Join the group on GoodReads, which makes it easy to have discussions and follow along.

If you don’t own the book, now is a great time to grab a copy. Hope you’ll join.

 

 

28 (Better) Things No One Tells You About Publishing

The recent Buzzfeed post by  called 24 Things No One Tells You about Publishing was fun to read. I’ve written 6 popular books with two publishers and I agreed with much of what she said. But in hearing every question and myth about my trade over the years, here’s my own list of what I wish more people knew.

  1. Selling books is harder than writing them. There are 300k books published in the U.S. every year. And 30% of Americans read only 1 to 5 books in 2014. Writing a book is purely up to you. But getting other people to buy and read your book is another matter.
  2. Everyone obsesses about titles and covers but it’s hard to prove their impact beyond above a basic level of quality. It’s easy to find popular books with lousy titles and covers, and unpopular books with great titles and covers. There are too many variables for magic answers. Publishers exert more control over titles and covers than you’d expect: often authors have little say.
  3. Some books, like The Great Gatsby or Moby Dick, don’t become popular until decades after publication. It’s a strange world. Books have lives of their own, typically quiet ones. We judge success by sales, but many factors that have nothing to do with the book itself impact sales. Bestseller lists are not a meritocracy. Sometimes a book is on the bestseller list for a week and never heard of again. Other times a book has steady sales for years but never makes any lists or wins any awards.
  4. Your reasons for writing must transcend fame and wealth as neither are likely from writing alone. Most books you read are written by writers who pay their rent through other means. If you want fame and wealth from writing be committed to the long term. This takes the pressure off each book, and you’ll be open to learning instead of foolishly trying to hit a grand slam on your first try.
  5. Fame will likely ruin your writing or your life. And that’s assuming you’re lucky enough to get it. Study the history of famous writers and artists if you doubt me. Fast fame in particular is a curse, or a trap, as everyone wants you to repeat exactly what you did before.
  6. The publishing industry is slow to realize authors need them less than ever. Unlike 20 years ago, you can do much of what a publisher does yourself, perhaps not as well, but that depends on how entrepreneurial and self aware you are. Learn about self-publishing simply to be informed about your business end to end. Some publishers do great work, but many are stuck in an antiquated notion of their value.
  7. Many authors are lazy. They’re arrogant too. They don’t want to do PR, they don’t want to do their homework and they are in denial of how many other authors there are. They, like some publishers, believe in romantic notions of how publishing works.
  8. Some publishers/editors/agents are amazing. Some are bad and incompetent. YMMV. Don’t judge them all by the one you worked with. My agent, David Fugate, is awesome. Great advice on how to find an agent here, but remember the better the agent the more work you’ll have to do to get in touch with them.
  9. A great editor at a mediocre publisher can be a better situation than a mediocre editor at a great publisher. Editors represent you for dozens of decisions the publisher makes for your book that you can’t participate in.
  10. Many editors don’t “edit”. They’re more like strategists or strategic project managers. There are three roles editors play, often played by different people. Acquisitions editors sign authors. Development editors help you draft your book. Production editors are the ones who spend the most time with your words, and even they depend on copyeditors and proofreaders. Many people will touch your book.
  11. Don’t believe everything depends on finding agents or publishers. They both want you to already have a fan base, which is a paradox. There are many paradoxes to face in trying to break into any field that many people want to be in (e.g. being a movie star). To find an agent requires hard work and this is on purpose. There is a far greater supply of people writing books than demand from publishers.
  12. Always remember you can upload a PDF of your book to Amazon and have it on sale on Kindle in minutes. Don’t get lost falsely depending on others. No one can stop you from writing a book and selling it except yourself. Promoting a book well is another matter (see #1), but publishers struggle with that too.
  13. No one will come to your book reading/signing unless you are already famous. The packed author readings on the news are only packed because the author is already very well known. It’s another paradox related to #1. Read The First 1000 copies by Tim Grahl, or APE by Guy Kawasaki for a good start on how to market books. Book readings at bookstores are among the worst uses of time for a new author.
  14. Publishers only invest in big PR for famous authors. For new authors there’s little reason to believe the investment will pay off. Would you spend 50% of your annual marketing budget on an unknown? Neither would a publisher. Publishers do love authors who invest their own time and money in marketing, and will help with and add to your investment.
  15. Most people think they want to write, but really they just like to think about writing. If you have a 6th grade education you know how to write. The question is are you willing to put in the hours?
  16. You can spot these people because they spend more time complaining about how hard it is to write than doing it. Or they endlessly stroke their idea as if it can someday magically transform itself into 300 pages. Don’t complain. No one is making you torture yourself but you.
  17. Distractions say more about your lack of commitment than anything else. Learn to concentrate. Concentration is a skill anyone can develop and if you are serious about writing you should see this as central to your ambitions. If you were starving to death and writing a book would get you food, you’d write. We are all capable of writing if suitably motivated.
  18. Which means that anyone with sufficient commitment can write a book. It might not be a good book, but most books by published authors aren’t that good either. What makes for a good book is highly subjective anyway.
  19. A publisher is a venture capitalist. They are giving you money before your work is done. Before you complain about the size of the investment they are willing to make (or not make) in your book, are you are willing to make the same financial investment? Few authors are. It’s a business. They owe you nothing beyond what they agree to.
  20. Your friends, family and colleagues are you best assets for finding an audience for your writing. Everyone has friends and family. Ask for their help. Make it easy for them to help you. Reward every new fan as if they were your only fan (because at first they will be).
  21. Learn to take feedback well. By this I mean you want to be a better writer on the next book than this one, yes? That only happens if you listen for ways to improve. Arrogant writers, and they are legion, rarely improve.
  22. Learn to take rejection well. It will be everywhere. If you think rejections from agents and publishers are tough, wait till you get rejected by reviewers and readers (e.g. The Great Gatsby has 235 1 star reviews). Look for a nugget of merit in every mean-spirited critique you hear as the mean people might have more honest insight into your work than the nicer people. Be grateful anyone read your book at all.
  23. Stop looking for secrets and tricks. You’re a sucker if you think there’s a trick as every great writer in history never found one that let them skip the work. Tips only help if you are writing every day and can put tips to use.
  24. You build a following, or in publishing jargon, a platform, by publishing regularly. There is no magic place where people will come to you just for showing up once. It doesn’t matter where you publish, but put something into the world regularly. Be willing to learn as you go and experiment. There are many ways to build an audience but they all require effort.
  25. Publish once a week on a blog. You want to build an audience before your book is finished, not after. Write briefly about topics that relate to your book. Share excerpts and ideas you’re working on. Read other bloggers who write about subjects like yours and get to know them. Invite people you know to be interested to follow along. It will feel weird at first but work to get comfortable with being visible and making connections, as you’ll need those skills when your book is out in the world.
  26. Don’t be precious. No one is going to steal your ideas. Ideas are easy, it’s the work of delivering on an idea in 300 pages that’s hard.
  27. Get feedback on your ideas and drafts early. Find people who are honest with you – they are hard to find. Grand praise of your drafts does not make them better. Separate useful critiquing (“this section didn’t work”, “you should read Rushdie”) from the moral support your friends give over beers (“you can do it”, “keep going”). Get the tough feedback early enough that you can still do something about it.
  28. Only your name is on the book. Your publisher will publish dozens of books every month. You will publish one book every few years, or maybe just once in your life. They will never care as much as you do about your book. You have the right to veto and argue, politely, with anyone who works on your book. Stand up for yourself, but earn that right by taking writing and publishing seriously. Do your homework. If you don’t take shortcuts, no one will try to take shortcuts on you.

Related:

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Live Q&A: How To Write a Memoir

[Update: The writeup and video from this event can be read/watched here]

Interesting in writing a memoir? or did you read The Ghost of My Father? Or both?

Join me for a live Q&A about my book and how to write a memoir of your own.

When: Wednesday March 4th, 12:00pm PST
Where: Anywhere! It’s online.
How: RSVP here

I’ll answer any questions you have about the issues raised in The Ghost of My Father (FAQfree excerpt here), or questions about how it was written and what advice I have for you if you’re interested in writing a memoir yourself. Trained clinical therapist, and friend, Vanessa Longacre will join to provide expert commentary.

If you can’t make it, leave a comment with your question below, and I’ll answer here or during the Q&A (which will be recorded).

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How does physical fitness help productivity?

Each Tuesday I take the top voted question from readers and answer it.  With 143 votes, this week’s winner was from Naveen Sinha:

Many companies are now providing standings desks, healthy food, and fitness trackers to promote the health of their employees. What patterns have you seen between the workplace environment and employee productivity, especially in terms of health and fitness?

Sick workers are not productive, which means any sane organization will invest in keeping its workforce healthy. More than 1/3 of American adults are obese, which may lead to more preventable illnesses and missed days of work than almost any other factor. Since 80% of jobs today are sedentary, and employees spend half or more of their waking hours at work, there’s a systemic trap that workplaces contribute to a problem that the workplace itself should be helping to solve.

To make the point another way: could you imagine a company that made their workplace as hazardous as possible, with typhus laced spikes jutting out of the floor and trap doors, with starving lions inside, around every corner? Companies invest millions of dollars in salary, training and benefits into their employees and want to get as much out of them as possible for as long as possible. Fitness is simply an important element of health, and organizations naturally care about the health of their workforce.

Productivity beyond basic health is trickier to measure. Productivity itself is also hard to define for creative kinds of work (See: Data Paradox). There are plenty of examples of people with unhealthy lifestyles being extremely productive, as any story of an entrepreneur in a garage living off ramen noodles attests to(related: workplace architecture’s value is overstated). Some of the most productive years for Van Gogh, or your favorite rock band, included abuse of alcohol, other drugs and sleep deprivation.  These are anecdotes of course, but there are so many examples of highly productive creatives, at least in the short term, who made poor health choices. Everyone’s biology and temperament are different, different enough that there is no single answer to what factors makes one specific person productive or not.

But in the longer term there’s much support that regular fitness only helps workers and workplaces. There’s evidence it improves concentration, lowers stress, makes workers happier on days when they exercise, and even helps with depression. I think the inability to concentrate is a  fundamental problem that explains what’s wrong not just workplaces, but culture at large, and exercise contributes to developing powers of concentration.

I looked for studies claiming that exercises reduces productivity and didn’t find a single one. Of course that could mean that there’s not much funding in disproving the benefits of exercise, but that’s beyond even my level of skepticism about studies. The human body evolved to expect sustained exercise, as 20,000 years ago we had to work our bodies every day just to eat and find shelter. It makes sense that our bodies work best when we use them regularly. Even the U.S. government recommends 30 minutes of exercise per day for everyone.

My favorite reference about the value of exercise is about its relationship to stress and worry:

If you are one of those chronically upset worriers, Dr. Robert Waldinger, a psychiatrist at Massachusetts General Hospital and Harvard University, has a prescription for you: exercise. “If you could give one magic pill that would improve physical health, mood, reduce weight,” this would be it, Waldinger says.

I couldn’t find data to support it, but my hypothesis is any workplace that provides standing desks, fitness membership discounts and even healthy food, recognizes that employees are adults and should be enabled to make choices about not just lifestyle, but workstyle. It reflects a philosophy of empowering employees and giving them choices, rather than dictating policy. It wouldn’t surprise me if there was a correlation between organizations that had these perks and ones that allow workers to choose to work remotely.

If you’re looking for advice on how to craft an exercise program, James Clear’s post is the place to start.

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Live Q&A: When should it be?

UPDATE: Poll closed. Date now set for Wednesday March 4th, 12:00pm. RSVP here.

 

One of the promised rewards to backers of The Ghost of My Father is a live Q&A with me about the book. I’ve decided to open this event to everyone. You’ll get to ask me questions about the book, the themes and questions it raises, plus get expert commentary from Vanessa Longacre, a clinically trained therapist and all around excellent person.

The question is what day and time? It has to be the first week in March, and you can pick from the options below.

Haven’t read the book yet? If you start now you’ll have just over two weeks to finish it and join in the Q&A.

I’ll announce the final time here and on my mailing list, so sign up if you want to get notified.

Quote of the week: Pesca on Williams, Stewart and the Truth

Mike Pesca hosts The Gist podcast on Slate, one of my favorites. He had this fantastic piece on Wednesday, 2/11 which I transcribed. Fantastic commentary on news, media, entertainment and truth. He hints at narrative fallacy:

A white man in his fifties from NJ who faked news is being pilloried for betraying the audience by making us question our institutions and ask who can we really trust. A white man in his fifties from NJ who faked news is being celebrated for delighting the audience

The difference between Brian Williams and Jon Stewart is the difference between carbon dioxide and nitrous oxide. We had two very different contracts with these two men in suits, sitting at desks, reading the news. One of them is a satirist, the other a fatherly figure with an old media, old transportation title: anchor. And from him we want sobriety. These guys who played, at least on air, a version of friends had such similar backgrounds: Jersey upbringings, sports in high school, great communicators.

Stewart, even when he was a stand-up, was best when riffing off of non-fiction. Williams, a truly witty man, an SNL host, reportedly sought out Jay Leno’s old job when he left the tonight show. He could have been locked into the stuffiest straight jacket in America, but he was ready to bust out and be funny.

And I reject by the way the contention that sense of humor is the antithesis of serious or believable: Lincoln, Kennedy, Churchill, great wits all. And even newsmen can be funny without losing their gravitas. Walter Cronkite did a guest spot on the Mary Tyler Moore show. For all the tsk’ing this week about how Cronkite wouldn’t have hosted Saturday Night Live. Well, no, you’re right: here was on CBS. Edwin Newman, esteemed NBC newsman, did host Saturday Night Live.

Brian Williams was extremely articulate and that was a key to his appeal and maybe his undoing. I’ve heard it said that in these last few days that he wasn’t so much a journalist as he was a celebrity. One is supposed to be a virtuous pursuit and the other term is dismissive. But think of the overlap. A journalist is a storyteller, at his best a communicator, elements of charisma and a feel for the dramatic play into this. Knowing how to tell an anecdote, maybe even spin a yarn, helped burnish the Williams brand to the point where if Scott Pelley were caught in a lie it would be more confusing, but less of a national scandal.

In fact, right now, under our noses, there is a similar charade being perpetrated apparently some guy David Muir is claiming to be the anchor of ABC World News tonight and no one is even fact checking that claim.

…it is strange how news about journalists doesn’t go under covered. The first is to note that in my experience the closer a news story adheres to the rules of narrative the more you should be suspicious that the events actually transpired as described. I am not just talking about shlocky, obviously manipulative “journalism”. I’m talking about the best journalism. I’m talking about works that have won Pulitzers, the radio shows you love, the non-fiction authors who are the most acclaimed. They’re not lying, but there is a shading. A leaving out of complicating details. A landing on salient points in a way that is satisfying to our species’ desire for linear tales. But antithetical to the messiness of the world.

Secondly it doesn’t surprise me that at the center of this was a war zone exaggeration… war correspondent was a gap in William’s resume before he became an anchor. So it doesn’t surprise me that he’d fill in this gap with such, lets say, abandon. The funny thing about all of this is that anchorman is the ultimate position of illusory importance. When they are on the air they seem so vital to the culture, but when they go away they remembered very little. Peter Jennings died less than ten years ago this summer. Ask a young person if they know who he is. Jennings drew 5 million more viewers a night that Williams does now.

But this satirists. The jesters. They seem to have more staying power. Will Rodgers. Mark Twain. Aristophanes. And now Jon Stewart. None of them really claimed to tell the truth. But of course, they all did.

[transcription by me]

The Night of The Gun, Review

“We all remember the parts of the past that help us connect with the future.”

– David Carr, The Night of the Gun, pg. 40

img_1416541527I picked up a copy of David Carr’s Night of The Gun in 2009 because of the unusual offer the book made to readers. It wasn’t just a memoir. It was a memoir written with a daring interest in the truth. The book details the harrowing years of his addiction, and the horrors he created for his wife, friends and young children, but it was his pursuit of challenging his own memories that fascinated me. Carr interviewed his friends and family about their experiences with him in the past to develop the book and writes about them. Asking these questions and honoring the answers is uncommon in memoirs, and in most lives.

Memoirs are a curious form of writing. Unlike autobiographies where there is the suggestion of completeness, and novels where the assumption is invention, memoirs hover in the middle ground. They are often focused on just one element or time in a person’s life, and shift in style from essays to novelistic accounts of important events. Memoirists are granted wide latitudes – it’s assumed they’re telling their story, in their way, with subjective truths taking more of the foreground than objective ones. Carr put a heavy stake in the ground in asserting for the reader what kind of memoir he was writing and what kind of truth he was after.

Night of the Gun is a tough book. There are many horrible things that happen and Carr, the author, is their protagonist. You can’t read it without asking yourself how honest you are about who you are, and the bad things you’ve done that you rarely remember anymore. Would you be brave enough to interview your own family about your past? Ex-boyfriends or former friends? This was by far the most compelling element of the book for me. It was an inspiration for writing The Ghost of My Father, where, like Carr, I did interview my family for the project, as hard as it was to do.

I’m very sad that David Carr is gone. His book was an influence on my ideas for my own writing. While I wasn’t a regular reader of his work, I noticed the intelligence and braveness he had about the craft and it inspired me.

Many people will be interested in his book for autobiographical reasons: Who was this man? they’ll ask. But I hope if you read the book you’ll tend to the braveness of craft he demonstrates, as the pursuit of honesty with ourselves and each other is perhaps the great challenge of the human race.

Related:

How Do You Make People Think?

[Every Tuesday I take the top voted question from readers and answer it.  With 65 votes, this week’s winner was from Zsolt Fabok]

“Most people would sooner die than think; in fact, they do so.” ― Bertrand Russell

The worst, and most common, way to try to make people think is to use force. When people ask the question “How can I make people think?” they usually mean “How can I get other people to think the way I do?” They don’t precisely want more people to think well, since free thinking is unpredictable. Instead they really want submission, and the way you get submission is by force. Many organizations, leaders and even parents use force, which includes intimidation, manipulation and coercion. Would you want anyone to use these approaches on you? I doubt it. Which leads to the first lesson about making people think: use the golden rule (or the platinum rule).

How would you want to be treated if someone else wanted to make you think? You’d first want to be treated with respect. Second you’d want to be offered new information or a new story about how to look at a situation. And third you’d want the opportunity to have a civil conversation, where you were encouraged to ask questions, explore multiple points of view and could safely explore a range of answers. Providing all three of these takes time. A real debate with multiple points of view are explored fairly takes far more effort than flinging platitudes and self-serving statistics (that are likely tainted by, or easily perceived by others to be an effect of, confirmation bias).

This means patience and commitment is the only way to encourage people to think and think well. Thinking is a choice. The other person has to find a genuine interest in the question being asked to choose to think. If you manipulate them into thinking something, they’ll be just as easily manipulated out of it. Thinking is a social process: we are better at thinking the more time we spend with other people who think well. If you want to help someone think, you have to offer a better community for safely asking questions and searching for answers than the one they have.

You cannot teach a man anything; you can only help him find it within himself. -Galileo

In the end you can’t make anyone think anymore than you can make someone happy. Philosophers, artists and leaders have been trying to encourage our species to be better at thinking for centuries with debatable results. You can make pitches, you can provide opportunities, and you can give of yourself, but in the end it’s up to the other person to choose to be open to change.

Related:

[photo credit]

The Paradox of Expertise

A previous essay, Why Smart People Defend Bad Ideas, continues to get feedback, despite the fact that I wrote it before I knew the concept of cognitive bias. People leave comments often and here’s a particularly interesting link (thanks CCJ).

From Studies in Intelligence (vol 47 no 1), a declassified CIA journal:

The Paradox of Expertise: the strengths of expertise can also be weaknesses. Although one would expect experts to be good forecasters, they are not particularly good at making predictions about the future. Since the 1930s, researchers have been testing the ability of experts to make forecasts. The performance of experts has been tested against actuarial tables to determine if they are better at making predictions than simple statistical models.

Seventy years later, with more than two hundred experiments in different domains, it is clear that the answer is no. If supplied with an equal amount of data about a particular case, an actuarial table is as good, or better, than an expert at making calls about the future. Even if an expert is given more specific case information than is available to the statistical model, the expert does not tend to outperform the actuarial table.

The full essay does explore advantages that experts have. It also discusses the paradox of using teams to balance against expert bias, the role of methodology, etc. The context of the essay is, you guessed it, CIA type intelligence gathering, but in reading this essay much of it applied to any kind of complex work.

Do you know of other attempts to quantify the value of expertise? Please leave a comment. Thanks.

[photo credit]

Why You Need To Watch Bitter Lake

As a writer I think often about storytelling and different ways to tell stories. I recently watched Bitter Lake, a BBC documentary by filmmaker Adam Curtis (recommended to me by Ario) and I can’t recommend it strongly enough. The film is something everyone should watch for three reasons.

First is its ambition. Many Americans feel they are betrayed by media and that we are fed oversimplified stories that don’t serve our interests. Yet we do little to seek out alternative kinds of storytelling and storytellers. The opening narration to the film makes clear its ambition to offer something better:

Increasingly we live in a world where nothing makes any sense. Events come and go like waves of a fever leaving us confused and uncertain. Those in power tell stories to help us make sense of the complexity of reality, but those stories are increasingly unconvincing and hollow. This is a film about why those stories have stopped making sense… it is told through the prism of a country at the center of the world, Afghanistan.

Second is its form. Most documentaries use the same structure of voiceover and interviews with experts to tell a linear, dense story of an event. Curtis is known for more ambitious storytelling where the viewer has to put more of the pieces together themselves. This is the kind of intelligent storytelling we claim to want. It demands an investment from the viewer, but delivers on it. It reveals how the obsession with simple answers betrays the truth we claim to want.

Bitter Lake has much less narration and expert commentary than you’d expect. Instead Curtis sifted through hundreds of hours of rushes, the unused footage recorded by news and television crews, to share moments that are surprisingly real. I say surprising because in watching Bitter Lake you realize how stereotyped all of the footage you’ve ever seen of Afghanistan has been. Here you see children playing, soldiers dancing and people living their lives. And you also see moments of shock, violence and uncategorizable scenes too strange and real to label (vaguely reminiscent of clips from Koyaanisqatsi, but without slow-motion or endless Phillip Glass riffs) . It has as dream like effect and Curtis leaves it to you, the viewer, to decide for yourself what some of the shots he shares mean, or how they fit together if they do at all, just as you might have to do if you were traveling yourself to a foreign country and having a real experience.

Curtis himself offers:

These complicated, fragmentary and emotional images evoke the chaos of real experience. And out of them I have tried to build a different and more emotional way of depicting what really happened in Afghanistan.

Third is the story of America and Afghanistan, the subject of the film. Some of this story I knew, but there were many surprises here that sent me immediately to the web to research and explore. I didn’t know the U.S. in 1946 invested heavily in developing Afghanistan, (with unexpected and disastrous consequences) which means the massive reconstruction of recent years was a repeat of a failed project of the past, making many of the same mistakes. And I learned how the complex relationships of oil, weapons sales, America’s relationship with Saudi Arabia and its (perhaps unavoidable) hypocrisies fueled so many of the troubles in the middle east for the last 50 years, including 9/11, the rise of radical Islam, and the sad stories that have followed. I left the film understanding the larger stories in a profoundly better way (accepting its complexity), and with new, sharper questions too.

You can watch the film online here or on Youtube for the moment, or if you’re in the UK, on BBCi until Feb 15.  Here is the trailer:

 

The Burdens of Expertise

[I post every Tuesday with the top question from AskBerkun – this week I took a pass and shared this instead which has been on my mind]

Are you an expert in something? As you’ve no doubt discovered there are challenges, or burdens, to having knowledge that no one explained to you beforehand. As dignified as it is to have people interested in what you know, there are unspoken annoyances and frustrations too. Somehow despite how knowledge is central to civilization, experts are often graceless in how they handle its burdens.

Here is a list of the burdens of expertise:

  1. Experts are a privileged minority.  Most people you meet on this planet will know less than you about your expertise. You are fortunate to have had the opportunities, however hard won they were, that made you an expert. And as your expertise grows, the distance between your knowledge and the average person’s will get larger. The smarter you are, the easier it will be to look down on everyone else.
  2. You will tend to become annoying to others. From the myopic lens of your expertise the world is a simple place where things would improve if only people would listen to you, and your field, more. This is only partially true. If you consider all of the other kinds of expertise in the world, and the similar feelings those experts have about the world, you’ll realize there’s bias in being an expert: you tend to discount other kinds of expertise. Designers who yell “why isn’t everything designed better?” ignore the doctors who yell “why isn’t everyone healthier?” and the chefs who say “why doesn’t everyone eat better?” Being an expert makes some people become insufferable, self-centered complainers.
  3. You will be asked the same 5 basic questions about your work FOREVER. Despite how sophisticated you think you are, most people you will ever meet will ask the same basic, introductory questions. It’s easy to be frustrated by this and dismiss people who ask you the basics. You’ll feel it’s beneath you. You’re presuming the world should know your field, yet you likely do little to make it welcoming for new people to learn about it. (“A wise man can learn more from a foolish question than a fool can learn from a wise answer.” – Bruce Lee.)
  4. You must be a diplomat not an elitist. If being an expert makes you a minority, persuasion is a central asset. Everyone you meet may be learning about your domain for the first time and the burden is on your to charm and convince them to want to learn more. If you, as the only expert in your field they know, is rude, egotistical or dismissive, they’ll cast those judgements on the entire profession and won’t bother to ask again.
  5. You will slowly learn to fear new ideas. Being a consultant, as most experts are, reinforces confidence in dangerous ways. You will be paid handsomely to answer the same ten basic questions over and over again, and to answer them in much the same way, which slowly reduces the appeal of work that pays less, but is far more ambitious. You’ll resist the emotional challenges of being a novice learner in anything, including ways to rethink your entire profession, which will only increase your mishandling of the burdens of your expertise.
  6. You may believe you know all that is worth knowing. As an expert people will ask you questions you honestly know nothing about. But since you are good at sounding like an expert and giving advice, you’ll hide this very well. It can get harder and harder to say “I don’t know” or “you should ask this other expert” as the rewards for pretending like you do know are much better than being honest. And since you’re spending more preaching than practicing, you’ll overlook how long it’s been since you’ve taken your own advice and put it to the test, further distancing yourself from the truth. [Added 2-3-15]

Related: How To Call BS On a Guru.

Apologies for the last post (if you saw it)

I’m working on some improvements at the site and had a post go out a few minutes ago that shouldn’t have.

If you receive my posts by email and you just got one telling you to sign up for email, which makes no sense of course, sorry about that.

I’m improving how subscribe by email works, and the quality of what goes out by email, so this is all for your benefit. But again, apologies for the annoyance.