Archive for the 'Work Life' Category

Be more creative. Yes, you!

Do you see that guy? He's diving off of a platform about 120' up in the air into the ocean at Rick's Cafe in Jamaica. Creative? Stupid? Brave? You be the judge.

Do you see that guy? He’s diving off of a platform about 120′ up in the air into the ocean at Rick’s Cafe in Jamaica. Creative? Stupid? Brave? You be the judge. (I jumped off the 30′ cliff and was scared to death!!)

Being in a creative profession, I live, eat, sleep, breathe and dream creativity. It’s my job to be a master of my craft. I’ve spent 20+ years working on this – and every day I learn something new. That’s what I love about this journey that I’ve chosen to pursue. Along the way, I’ve had the opportunity to meet interesting, creative, smart, cool people – and every one of them has a story. One refrain that I hear a lot is, “I’m not creative at all! How do you do what you do, especially in a short timeframe?”

I want to dispel any misconceptions right here, right now: creativity is a gift that we all have. It just looks different in everyone. I happen to make a living with my creativity, so I’ve dedicated a lot of my energy and time to understanding it. Creativity is a muscle that needs to be developed, trained and used. But the important thing to know is that we all have this muscle. Whenever someone tells me they are not creative, it makes me want to grab them by the shoulders, shake them and say, OH YES YOU ARE! :)

So if you’ve ever thought that you are not creative at all or wish to add more creativity in your life, here are 7 tips that have worked for me – and I hope they work for you, too.

1. Be curious. Creativity comes from a burning desire to understand, to know, to dive deeper than the surface of everyday life. Ask more questions. No – question everything. I drive people crazy sometimes with my questions, but if I don’t understand, how can I help? Listen for opportunities to ask questions. A great example is when someone says, No, we can’t do that, it will never work. Or my favorite: but this is the way we’ve always done it. I always ask, why? I read an analogy once, that you don’t tear down a fence without first finding out why it’s there. Maybe it is old and falling down and serves no purpose. Fine, tear it down. But if it’s there to keep the cows from wandering off into the hills, the fence needs to stay. But if you don’t ask questions, you’re missing the good stuff. I always get nervous when I am teaching a class or interviewing a creative professional and ask if there are any questions – and I get crickets.

2. Recognize your own creative passions. When one friend told me she was not creative, I reminded her about her flair for cooking and creating new dishes. I then reminded her that I have burnt hard-boiled eggs. :) Another friend who is an engineer said the same thing. I reminded him that every time he was given a problem to solve with a new design, he was being creative. Cooking, engineering and knitting may not seem on the surface to be as creative as the work that a poet or an artist does, but you are using the same creative muscle, just for different outcomes.

3. Find what lights you up inside. My good friend and neighbor recently took up knitting with her daughter. As she talked about it, her face lit up, she talked excitedly, and she was happy. Think about what does that for you. It could be tinkering with a car. Maybe it’s decorating. Whatever activity you can do and completely lose yourself in, that’s your creative outlet and you need to find a way to do more of it in your life. As we get older, it’s tougher to find time for yourself, but creativity is as essential to life as air, water, food and shelter. Without it, we are simply not whole. What you did creativity at age 9 might still suit you at 49, but if not, look for something new. Commit to giving yourself the gift of an hour a week devoted to your creative passion.

4. Listen more than you talk. This is hard for me when I am in the mood to talk, especially after I’ve had 3 extra-large Dunkin Donuts black coffees. :) It also requires that you can be comfortable with silence. When I first became a manager, I turned to a good friend with excellent business sense and years of management experience to tell me what I needed to improve. He said, “Learn how to be quiet.” (I guess I talk too much around him LOL) But I realized that this is critical not just for managers but for people. When you listen, you have more time and energy to observe and pay attention to the little details that tell you more than words ever could. That’s what creativity is about: seeing and hearing the truth below the surface – then finding a way to interpret and reflect back what you see.

Being in a group setting for me is like drinking 3 extra-large coffees. I turn into the Energizer Bunny (look! He has his own bio!). But making time to sit quietly and listen helps me understand people better. I can study their gestures. Listen for good dialogue and story starts. Another friend who is a photographer takes photo walks – she wanders Chicago on her lunch hour and takes photos of what moves her. Take time to listen and observe. It doesn’t take much time. Every morning after my workout at the local YMCA, I walk to my car and simply stare up at the endless sky of orange, blue and gray. I see mist rising above the field. The sun shines warm on my face. I close my eyes and I let it all sink in. It never ceases to fill me with joy. It takes 60 seconds. Give yourself this gift. You deserve it!

5. Know your own creative process. My work requires that I create something out of nothing, often with insane deadlines. It is not a 9am – 5pm job. I need time to think. To simmer. I also need a deadline – usually the more urgent the better. I work better under pressure, otherwise, I will simmer forever because I love to live in creative simmering mode. I need large blocks of time to work through a first draft. I need music at some points in my process, but silence at others. I always need coffee. Some work I can only do at 3am. Some people need to talk through a creative challenge and bounce around ideas, then go off and work it through alone. Some people need to work in a coffee shop, while others need to work at home in their pajamas (hey, it works for Hugh Hefner!). The point is, think about what you need. Then follow and feed your process. You’ll be surprised at how much more creative – and productive – you will be.

6. Seek out new experiences. Get out of your comfort zone. Try a new class at the gym. Force yourself to drive a different way to work every day for a week. Take a weekend off from life and go somewhere new. Try a new activity. I’ve gone to pottery classes with an artist friend (and have a misshapen bowl to show for it), learn a new language. Think of it as cross-training your brain. Every new activity that pushes you out of your comfort zone helps you get more comfortable with ambiguity and change – where creativity thrives. The picture in this post is from my vacation to Jamaica in 2010 – that cliff diver was a professional, but I dove off of a 30′ cliff that was made for amateurs. I am not coordinated, so I hit the water ass first, which I liken to getting spanked by God. But it was so out of my ordinary life, spent behind a desk, that it energized me for weeks afterward and I wrote three short stories in a week. Even though I couldn’t sit down for three days afterwards, it was worth it. :)

7.  Make your creativity a priority. I know, we’re all busy. I can’t remember if I ate breakfast let alone what I had and refuse to tell you how often I forget things because my mind is so preoccupied with the details of family, work and life. (Let’s just say that I often drive past my exit on the expressway because I am lost in creative thought and am on a first-name basis with my bank, as they call me frequently to let me know they salvaged my debit card, which I left in the cash station machine.) So yeah, I know, it’s tough to fit in time for anything else. But know this: you need creativity. You need to lose yourself in a creative passion, reaching that ‘zen’ state where you lose track of time and lose yourself in your creative work. You will be a better spouse, friend and employee because you are doing what you love.

I apologize this is so long, but there’s so much more I could say, I never get tired of this topic. Please share what works for you, what your creative passion is and how you fit creativity into your life – or want to. Inspire us!!

feeling lost? think back to when you were 9

When I was nine years old, I thought about what I wanted to be when I grew up. After exploring options like veterinarian, teacher and librarian, I finally settled on one thought: I want to write things that make people think.

Flash forward…a lot of years. I am now helping really smart people build compelling stories about very complex products. A big part of my job involves being a good listener. I listen to engineers talk about the fantastic, creative products they have dreamt up, designed and built, then created with the help of a team of other really smart people. I extract what I know will make a great story and help them build it with the tools and techniques I have honed through…a lot of years of studying the works of great writers and building stories for many companies.

There is nothing more satisfying to me than helping someone tell their story – whether it is a biography, a product messaging platform focused on the customer’s needs, or a white paper on the benefits of 40G or Class 4 antennas. Recently, I helped a team hone the strategic message for a new product launch. The product is cool, innovative and complex. At the end of a two-day messaging session with a team of eight, the leader of the team delivered a pitch based on the foundation we had just built that was clear, concise, and truly compelling. It truly confirmed that I am doing exactly what I set out to do: write things that make people think.

But it’s more than that – it’s about making people look at the way the way they tell their stories – about their products, about themselves – in a way that moves people. We are so jaded as a society, authenticity is the only way to be heard, to make an impact, whether it’s to become more authentic as a creative professional or to tell a more compelling brand story, find a way into the plot or the painting or any other creative expression. It is about watching people become more open and comfortable telling their story in a way that matters. I help people give words to their story so their voice will be heard through the clutter of blogs, social media, reality TV shows and 20 million channels of clutter. My work is about helping others give voice to ideas, to technology, to new ways of thinking. I am always honored to be a witness and participant in this process.

At nine years old, I didn’t know what my vision would look like…many years later. :) But I feel blessed to know that I had a vision. And that I am able to use it every day.

If you are feeling lost, think about your vision of your life when you were nine years old. What did you want to do? What did you hope for? You may be surprised to find that you are already doing it. If not, ask yourself why. Then go for it.

the power of doing nothing

As a creative professional, I’m constantly faced with new challenges and decisions: what’s the best way to tell this brand story? What will resonate most with the audience? What will make them laugh, cry, comment on Facebook or order the product I am helping to market? What’s the best way to get all the different people on the project engaged and aligned? But the toughest challenge by far for any project I work on is this: where do I start?

This is where the power of doing nothing is absolutely critical. Everyone has a process that they use to get things done. I’m no exception. Doing nothing is a big part of my process, especially when I am faced with what seems to be an overwhelming task. I find that this has been helpful in even in my regular life. When I am most overwhelmed and uncertain where to begin, I start by doing…nothing.

I sit in my screened-in porch. I take in the swaying oak trees taller and older than I will ever be. I let the whoosh of the wind in the leaves wash over me. I watch the flash of the red cardinal darting in and out of the bushes. I listen for squirrels’ feet padding along the top of my neighbor’s falling-down wooden fence in desperate need of paint, then watch them chase each other in circles around my yard and up a tree. I watch my dopey 110-pound dog try to catch them, climbing damn near two feet up the tree with her huge claws dug into the bark as she strains every muscle in her neck to reach the squirrel chattering, taunting her from a branch one dog nostril out of her reach. I listen to music that moves me and baptizes my brain of everything but the rhythm and the pattern of the harmonies. As the lyrics wash over me, I feel the worry and the fear – Will I be able to do this? Will I find the right words? Will I ever find my way in to this story? Maybe I don’t have it anymore. Maybe I’m not good enough. Maybe this is too much. Maybe I should give up. – all of that recedes as my brain powers down, forgets, feels, senses its way to…

…the answer I have been toiling to reach for hours or days to reach. It is murky and mysterious at first, I can’t make out what it is. So I make a grilled cheese sandwich, go sit down in the family room and stare out the bay window at the trees trying to see it until I smell something burning and remember I was making a grilled cheese sandwich. I toss it in the trash and walk the dopey dog around the pond. As I watch the ducks take flight from the water, tiny droplets falling from their webbed feet as they rise into the air in perfect unison, I feel the idea growing in me as sure as I felt my first-born flutter in my belly for the first time as I sat in a poetry reading 12 years ago. (He was stirred by the words, of this I am certain.) The idea is there. But it’s not ready yet. I’m not ready yet.

At six o’clock I make dinner and as I stir a pot of rice, my idea simmers as I wait for the water to boil. I sit at the dinner table and listen to tales of best friend sacrileges, Minecraft dramas, and remind everyone to keep their elbows off the table and put their napkins in their laps. I make sure homework is done, permission slips are signed, teeth are brushed, allergy medicine is consumed, and everyone is tucked in happy with all technology devices powered off and out of reach.

At midnight when the house is quiet and dark and no one needs me anymore, I drive to the grocery store and buy a case of Stella for me and a carton of Oreo Cookie Ice Cream for the kids and as I’m paying, the old, bored cashier with her spiky hairdo and bubblegum-pink lipstick and more gold bracelets than any human should be allowed to wear at one time surveys me in my sweats, t-shirt and converse sneakers with my beer and ice cream purchase and I know what she is thinking. This girl has just been dumped by the love of her life and is now off to drown and eat her sorrows away. I grin and shrug my shoulders in a sheepish “sorry no, these are my writing clothes” kind of way that writers learn to master over the years. And as I swipe my credit card – then dutifully swipe it again because I did it upside down the first time, the flicker of the idea flaps its tiny wings, becoming more clear, more recognizable as it slowly takes shape and floats to the surface, creating ripples of recognition.

I am ready to start. Ready to write. Ready to tackle that overwhelming challenge. I have found my way in.

I once attended a reading by David Sedaris, humorist, essayist, NPR speaker and one of my favorite authors (“Me Talk Pretty One Day,” among others). Afterwards, my friend and I waited in line for him to sign our books. After he scribbled a lewd drawing on my friend’s book for her twelve-year-old son and made a wisecrack I can’t repeat, I handed him my book and asked him what the toughest part was about writing funny. He told me about having to write a Thanksgiving dinner story for the New Yorker and how many times and ways he tried to start it. People behind me were impatient and muttering, but he took his time telling his story. I hung on every word. Finally he said, “The hardest part? Finding my way in.”

Next time you are feeling overwhelmed, unsure of where to start, try doing nothing. I hope you find your way in. Let me know how it goes.

7 comebacks for why you are not writing or finishing your book that just might trigger you to start writing again

Let’s say you are a writer and that, at some point, you have told your friends or family that you wanted to or were writing a book. Chances are pretty good that someone at some point has asked you how said book is going, if you are still writing, are you published, or another variation on, “Well, when the hell are you going to finish that thing already?!”

Now, we all assume that these kind-hearted souls are trying to be supportive. But let’s say that the moment they ask you this, your writing or otherwise so-called creative life is as off track as your exercise life, and you feel like you’ve been caught by your Weight Watchers sponsor on the couch with a box of doughnuts in one hand and a super size DQ Blizzard in the other while watching Biggest Loser.  

I feel your pain.

Now pass me a Long John because I have good news. Since I am very busy not writing my book right this minute, I have concocted 7 snappy little comebacks you can whip out when people ask you if you are writing, finishing or publishing your book. And the best part is, most of them are actually writerly exercises in disguise, which may or may not prompt you to start writing again.

So the next time anyone asks why you are not writing or finishing your book, you will respond:

I am not writing or finishing my book because…

1. “I have never recovered from…” You can either finish this statement with a fictional disaster–being raised by a wild pack of roosters–or simply shake your head and wave the person away for it is simply too awful to contemplate let alone speak of it. Every time someone asks you why you haven’t finished your project, it implies that there is something wrong with you. No one likes failed expectations. So give the people what they really want: a chance to speculate on what is wrong with you. Is it a disease? Is there a cheating spouse? Is this a manifestation of something terrible that happened in childhood? (Cue the roosters.) This can lead to juicy gossip and if you’re lucky, even better fiction than you could have dreamed up alone on the couch slurping your DQ Blizzard.

2. “I’m swamped at the alpaca farm!” Sometimes, you have to lie to get people off your back. And that’s OK, because we’re writers, we make sh*t up all the time. Consider it writing practice! It’s good for you to flex your tall tale muscles as often as possible. Just make sure it’s a VERY tall tale, because if you start mumbling about being busy with work and the kids and laundry blah blah blah, people will hassle you because you have disappointed them (see failed expectations in comeback #1). If you’re a writer, you had better have a damn good excuse for not writing. So you need a distraction. You need to lie.

If you’re very good at it, they will forget about the book and become fascinated with your new life on the alpaca farm. And you just might have a new story on your hands.

3. “I can’t live without the anticipation.” You can follow this up by stating that unlike the rest of the world, you rather enjoy waiting–at the doctor’s office, at the vet, in line at the bank, and especially at  Six Flags Great America and Disneyland. On Christmas morning, you are the last one to open your gifts. Sometimes you even wait until the next Christmas to open them. Waiting is the best part and you’ve got nothin’ but time. You are one big Heinz Ketchup bottle of Anticipation, baby. Bring it!

4. “I’m afraid success may change me.” Everyone already knows what it feels like to fail–personally, I have the editors’ rejection letters to prove it. But if you write a Harry Potter or Twilight and knock it out of the park, there is a 50/50 chance you might become one of those doomed “The Lottery Changed My Life” people and end up drinking yourself to death in a motel room in Vegas, broke and alone, while the few people who actually remember you say, “Wow, if only she hadn’t hit success with that big fat book, she might still be here today, giving us gambling money.”

Hopefully by the time you explain this, people will have moved on to the slot machine and you and your failed expectations will be long forgotten. If not, see “You need a distraction” in #3. I recommend yelling, “Tequila shots for everyone? Wow, thanks <insert friend’s name here>.” (Be sure to invite me if you’re going to use that one.)

5. ”I am currently extrapolating the dilemma of good vs. evil in a postmodern yet dialectic society that is analogous to Planet of the Apes.” You will probably only have to add one more nonsensical sentence before the audience’s eyes glaze over. All they will remember is the last thing you said, Planet of the Apes, and this is good because it acts as a transitional element for them to change the conversation to anything other than your writing.

This will be good practice for you if you have not done a reading in front of a live audience. It’s important to know exactly where in your writing people tuned out. WARNING: This is probably the best way to ensure that someone NEVER asks you about your book or your writing again, so use it wisely.

6. “But sweetie, writing takes me away from you for far too long!” Add a sweet smile at the end and you might just get lucky. But if you don’t, or you’re just pissed off and sick of people asking you about your damn writing, go with #7:

7. “My book is about you.” Immediately let out a forlorn sigh and stare off in the distance as if you are struggling with a mighty dilemma. At that point, the other person will either A. slap you, B. call a lawyer, C. cry, D. slap you again, or E. all of the above. Which means–you guessed it–you need a distraction. See “tequila shots” in #4.

And that’s it my friends, seven snappy, snarky little comebacks you can whip out at a moment’s notice when you are caught red-handed, not writing. Perhaps you have been inspired by all of these exciting potential confrontations. If so, get back to your chair and start writing again. If not, I say go for the tequila. There’s always a good story after tequila. :)

How to stop hating someone who is more successful than you?

So last weekend I’m at the bookstore–remember those? so quaint! so old-fashioned!–checking out the Best American Essays and short story collections when I see it: a black soft cover book with cool illustrations in embossed ink on the cover. The kind you just don’t see anymore on books (or maybe you do only it doesn’t look as cool on an iPad or Kindle or the Nookie, as my technology virgin sister calls the Nook).

I picked up the book. Cool illustrations, cool title. And then I see the author’s name and I think: A**HOLE!!

I know. Hardly my proudest moment. But it’s the first thing that popped into my head, unprompted, unwanted, unexpected. No, he wasn’t an ex-lover who did me wrong. It’s much, much worse. We were in graduate school together, he’s younger than me, he’s had three books published and is a professor of fiction. He’s everything I thought I wanted to be when I grew up. Every. Single. Damn. Thing.

Jerk.

Three books! All with similarly cool titles! The kind I wish I’d thought of! And quirky, deep characters! With interesting plot lines that peel back life layer by layer! And best of all, prose that I admire, with sentences and descriptions I read twice or more just because they were THAT good!

*sigh*

He has glowing recommendations from the New York Book Review, the New York Times, blah blah blah. And he deserves every single bit of praise. So why do I hate him? Where is all this hostility coming from, anyway?

Wasn’t I the one who, just two weeks ago, responded to someone who asked if I still wrote fiction ‘on the side’ that “my day job writing is enough for me?” Wasn’t it moi who told a friend I was OK with not picking up where I left off on my last book because I feel like I’ve said everything I wanted to say??

I don’t really hate this guy, but for the sake of my sanity and for fun, let’s call him BoBo. I actually like BoBo. He was very nice in the classes we had together; he accepted praise for his work with humility; to pay for school, he worked a couple of menial, low-paying jobs that gave him time to write. BoBo was smart, funny, and wicked with words on the page even back then. Everyone liked him. Even me.

I don’t regret him an ounce of his success. (Mostly.) It’s just funny, because every time I think I’ve finally gotten to the point in my life where it’s OK if I’m not writing, BoBo pops up with an interview in the literary section of the Chicago Tribune, or at an alumni reading, or on the damn bookshelf in my local bookstore, or winning yet another literary contest, reminding me of something I left behind that maybe–just maybe–I’m not ready to leave yet.

Damn you, Bobo.

Years ago, I remember asking an older copywriter (40-something, ha ha! I thought that was so old when I was 23) that I worked with whether she still wrote fiction or poetry. She said, “Nah. I finally gave myself permission to let that go, and I’ve been much happier ever since.” As I get “older,” I come back to her answer now and again, thinking–is this the year I can cut myself some slack? Is this the year I’ll be able to let go of what feels like an outdated dream so I can move on to something else or just be happy with where I am?

And then I see another book or interview with BoBo and I want to rip his eyes out all over again. This can’t be healthy. After I calm down, I realize, wait, maybe I do want to go back to that book project. Maybe there was something to that short story I abandoned like last night’s leftovers. Maybe there is still hope for me to write more of my own words and less of someone else’s. Maybe I can see BoBo and congratulate him on his hard-earned success instead of bemoaning my unfinished business.

It’s different too because, at 42, I’m halfway through my life (if I’m lucky and don’t get hit by a bus tomorrow, in which case, this would be  a crappy last blog post, I would prefer to go out on a high note not some rambling bitch fest). If I want this to happen, I need to get on it already. Or let it go gracefully.

Am I the only one who feels this way? I can’t be. There are millions of people out in the world–that’s a lot of unfulfilled, unrealized dreams haunting the universe. Sure, OK, we all make choices. I remember the moment in my sophomore year in college when I switched majors from creative writing to professional writing, thinking–I want to be able to support myself and never have to rely on anyone else ever again. And I like to eat, so I better do something where I can actually get paid. Fortunately, I realized this dream–being able to support my family with my words in today’s unpredictable business landscape feels less like a dream and more like a gift. But it was my choice. And it was a good one, for me and for my family.

So I’ve decided that starting today, I’m going to try to stop beating myself up, redirect my anger, stop hating on BoBo, and revisit my personal writing projects. I’m also going to read BoBo’s latest book and see what that crafty little devil is up to now that will inspire me. And maybe secretly I hope that every time I loosen my grip on my dream, BoBo will pop up again, reminding me of what’s important and why it matters that I pay attention when I get so damn pissed off about something. Reminding me that maybe I have something left to say after all. Or at the very least, that I can someday see his name on a book cover and think, “Way to go, BoBo!” and not, ”Again?? You bastard!”

Post script: As I checked out, the clerk looked over the cover of the book and said, “Interesting.” I said, “Definitely. I went to school with that guy. He’s really good.” Would have never happened if I’d just downloaded it on my Nookie.

When you trust your words to an editor

Tonight as I sat editing an article for a senior VP in another country, I thought–what a leap of faith. I had met this executive briefly once, many months ago. She was now trusting her words and ideas to me, a complete stranger other than the testimonials she’d heard from others about my work.

We all need to have our work reviewed by others at some point. I have to do it all the time. As a writer, my work is often reviewed by layers of people: other editors, sales people, senior leaders, rounds of nameless, faceless business units, marketing directors, legal teams, objective third parties, you name it.

But the review that’s toughest? When I am reading from my own fiction in front of an audience. It is nerve-wracking. I always start off talking too fast. Sometimes I hyperventilate (although I’ve never passed out, I’ve come close). Somewhere along the way, usually around paragraph 2, I find my rhythm. I speak slower, closer to the truth of the characters and the heart of the story. I finish strong.

But getting there–getting to the writing that is clear, strong, and just plain working–is a process. It’s a leap of faith that everyone who is reviewing it for you or with you is adding something that will help you get where you need to go. It requires trust and hope and a willingness to embrace revision for what it is: necessary, vital and good.

I’d like to thank everyone who has ever reviewed my work with an eagle’s eye, spotting inconsistencies, explaining inaccuracies, and verifying facts. I’d especially like to thank everyone who’s every said anything even remotely nice about my writing. We all need encouragement and support in this precarious process when words aren’t always quite right the first time around.

But most of all, I’d like to thank everyone who has ever trusted their words and ideas to my care. I am always in awe of the courage it takes to put words on paper, hit send and hope for the best.

I know exactly how you feel.

Keep writing!

Could you be the next Steve Jobs?

Now that Apple’s Steve Jobs has announced he is taking another medical leave of absence, there’s been a frenzy of chatter in the media about what will happen to Apple without him. My favorite analysis of a “Job-less” Apple is this well-thought out FastCompany article, How Apple Could Fall Without Steve.

It balances Job’s strengths (vision, energy) and weaknesses (odd resistances, such as the Adobe/flash debate, firewire vs. USB) and how Apple would fare without him at the helm. The author also rightly acknowledges that “Jobs isn’t the only genius in the world.”

And that got me thinking: how does one individual become so intertwined with a company that the two become almost one? It’s hard to tell what came first, the Apple or the Jobs. But Jobs’ vision, energy and passion is inspiring and drives the business. You either love or hate Apple (and Jobs for that matter), but there’s no denying that Apple is the darling of the technology world at this moment. But now everyone is wondering if, and how, his absence might change everything.

Are you the next Steve Jobs?
Whether you work in technology, retail, marketing, construction or any other industry, do you have what it takes to be a Steve Jobs? You don’t need to be Jobs to be considered integral to your company or business–but you do need to be considered valuable. Resourceful. Visionary. Passionate. You need to bring that je ne sais quoi to your work that makes people care whether you stay or go.

Coming out of one of the worst recessions since the Great Depression, we’ve all learned that we are replaceable. Heck, even Jobs is replaceable, although the results are debatable. So we’re all looking for ways to make ourselves as irreplaceable as possible, to make people worry about what would happen next if we were gone.

“A hundred years from now? All new people.”
Anne Lamott

So knowing that there will be all new people 100 years from now, how do you make your mark today? (Surely Jobs thinks of this as he battles pancreatic cancer.) And when I say that, I don’t mean, how do you drive a company to billions of dollars in profit. I mean, what drives you? What do you care about? How can you become a visionary leader in your own life or job?

Off the top of my head, I think it requires these six things:

Have a vision. Take time to think about your vision for the future. What is your ideal job? What are you doing daily? What does that look like? What’s the big picture for you? For your job? For your industry as a whole? Anticipate a trend; visualize how you see things going. Then stay true to your vision until it happens or until it doesn’t feel right anymore or you have reason to believe otherwise. You can always tweak your vision. But if you’re working without one, you might as well be walking around blind-folded.

Innovate. What problem, big or small, drives you crazy? How can you solve it? What’s missing in the world and why? What can you do about it? What is something you’d like to change? Companies that don’t take a risk or change or continue to produce new ideas grow stagnate or become followers more than leaders. (Microsoft, anyone?)

The same is true for people. When was the last time you took a chance, whether it’s speaking up at the staff meeting or exploring that new product idea you’ve been toying with for years? Be bold. Be daring. Be creative.

Listen. What are people talking about? What do they want? Based on what you hear and know, what do you think people want that they haven’t even articulated yet? For Jobs, it was good design, innovation and products that “just work.” This will also help you know when it’s time to change course or reshape your vision. After all, just because it’s your vision doesn’t mean it’s right or the that the world is ready for it.

Find your passion. I can’t imagine anything worse than waking up every day feeling dead inside because you don’t love what you do. If you don’t feel inspired or challenged, if you’re just going through the motions, think about what you wanted to be when you were 10 years old. Remember what you liked to do with your time and energy before “real life” kicked in.

Find some way to incorporate that passion into your day right now, this very minute. Watch the color come back into your face and into the world around you.

Believe. In yourself, in your idea, in the fact that you can make it work. Because trust me, there are going to be days when no one believes in you, including yourself. You’re going to lose faith. You’ll question yourself, doubt your decisions, especially when the going gets tough. But if you can reach into your heart and say with all honesty, “This is what I believe in,” and hear it answered back to yourself, you’ll get through it.

This is also about believing in people around you. If you surround yourself with good people–the right people–you will have others to lean on when you lose faith. Ideally, these people will call you out on your bullshit. They won’t just tell you what you want to hear. You should believe in them too, because belief goes both ways.

Fail. Taking a chance, risking something, putting yourself “out there”–it’s scary. It doesn’t feel good to fail, so most of us avoid it at all costs. But you can survive it. You can’t get to the next level or the next big idea or where you’re supposed to be if you don’t fail once in a while. No one is perfect, not even Steve Jobs. Apple TV isn’t quite where it needs to be yet, for example.

But if you are willing to take a chance on something you believe in–if you give yourself permission to try, and you fail–whatever “failure” means to you–you’re a winner because you had the guts to try. You can always change your dream or change your course, but if you never try because you were too afraid, that’s the saddest failure of all.

Take a break from holiday shopping: Get inspired at the Frank Lloyd Wright Home & Studio Tour

One of the best ways to stay creative and inspired is to keep your creative pond, an idea I first heard from The Artist’s Way author Julia Cameron, well stocked with creative eye candy and experiences: art, design, poetry, music, theater, anything that makes you feel alive and in awe. It can be somewhere as vast as the Grand Canyon or your own town’s farmer’s market. It’s even better when the inspiration is free and is good for the whole family–especially during the often hectic and frenetic holidays.

Case in point: the Frank Lloyd Wright Home and Studio tour. We surprised our kids with it this morning–woke them up, said let’s go, wouldn’t tell them where, stopped for doughnuts and headed out to Oak Park for the free Family Fun Days Featuring Victorian Christmas Tours.

For kids, by kids. Free tours of Wright’s Oak Park home, decorated for the holidays. Led by Junior Interpreters, specially trained 5th through 10th grade students, the tours focus on Wright family celebrations of the Christmas holidays. Enjoy hot chocolate and holiday music in the Home and Studio courtyard and play with Froebel blocks in Wright’s drafting room.

Fortunately my kids, ages 9 and 11, get as excited about architecture and history as my husband and I, so they were in awe of the unique home that looked nothing like any of the houses in our neighborhood. There was so much to take in: the old-fashioned toys, the huge Christmas tree in the children’s playroom (which also included a special staircase that led to a balcony for the Wright children to perform plays), the old ice box, and at the end of the tour, the Froebel blocks that were made available for anyone to play with, which we all did. The free hot chocolate was the icing on the cake of a cold, rainy winter day.

While there were adult guides throughout the house, kids ranging in age from 11 to 15 or so delivered the tour of each room–complete with historical details and tales of how the Wrights spent their holidays. They were professional and knowledgeable, and it was refreshing to see pre-teens and teens in this positive role–and I was happy that my children saw this as well. It wasn’t crowded, either, which made it easier to walk around the rooms and feast on the details without feeling pressure to move over or move on.

I told the kids to bring their wallets, and they found some cool, unique toys in the museum gift shop. (I talked my daughter out of the colored pencils, which we could buy anywhere, and she found a unique window glass art kit that she liked better.) Normally we wouldn’t buy stuff so close to Christmas, but it helps support the preservation trust, so it seemed like the right thing to do, especially since the tour was free.

We all left the house inspired by the architect’s vision, his unique design philosophy, the way natural light infused every room from the beautiful windows, building our own mini-creations with simple wooden blocks, the fascinating woodwork, attention to detail right down to the paint colors–Wright preferred natural earthy colors, according to our guides.

Standing there in Wright’s home, built in 1889, surrounded by moss-green walls, warm yet worn honey wood floors and light all around, it was impossible not to feel the beauty of his vision at every turn: a home filled with light and nature, form and function, beauty and tranquility.

It sure beat hanging out at the mall this time of year. Get creative. Stay creative. Even during the holidays.

To learn more about events sponsored by the Frank Lloyd Wright Preservation Trust, visit their website.

Writing process: How to get unstuck and have spanking clean toilets too

I have a book manuscript that I’ve dabbled with on and off since 2005. I recently cleared out my creative space and once again opened up the box with everything related to this project: a folder bulging with first drafts and revised drafts, research books, notes, email print-outs, three or four different outlines, story ideas, suggestions, schedules.

So many false starts, hopes, plans, dreams. All incomplete. Where to begin??? Like so many times before, I slapped the lid back on the box and shoved it back in its corner under my desk, out of sight but never out of mind.  My sense of failure was palpable.

Why can’t I finish this damn thing? Was it time to give it up? Had the moment to tell this story passed? I continued to berate myself as I threw in another load of laundry then headed upstairs to make dinner and clean the bathrooms, which is way more fun than feeling like a failure. I might not be able to finish this story, but by golly, my toilets will sparkle and I’ll make the best damn Hamburger Helper beef stroganoff ever!

The thing is, every time I return to this project, I get stuck right here. It didn’t help that I had some chapters in one computer file, others on a USB stick, still more on a disk, and multiple print-outs of copies and versions of drafts. I am organized in every aspect of my life, what the hell happened here? How would I know what was what? Where to start?

And then, shortly after the family was full of stroganoff, the toilets were sparkling, kids were in bed, and I was just about to overindulge in chocolate, I had an epiphany:

I could start over.

I sat up straight on the couch and put my chocolate down. Who said I have to try to put the pieces together from the way I saw this story five years ago? I always knew what the problem was: my story needed a skeleton to hang on, but every time I went back to the pieces, I was forcing the pieces to fit a structure that wasn’t working. Isn’t that the definition of insanity, doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result every time?

Yep, I’ve been driving myself crazy. But just like that, I gave myself permission to try a new structure. It seemed so simple, but I guess I had been so focused on making the square peg fit the round hole, I didn’t think to look for a new peg.

So, I’m starting fresh. I’m actually pretty excited about it, because I feel like I have a new skeleton that can work. I will pull details and scenes from the 200+ pages I’ve already written when and where it makes sense. That might sound depressing to some who aren’t used to the writing process, but sometimes you have to write a lot to find out what you have to say and the best way to say it.

If you’re stuck, consider clearing out your creative work space to make room for new ideas. Spend time in your creative space. Look at your old drafts. Don’t force  yourself to solve any problems. Try not to berate yourself. Read. Think. Ponder. Simmer. Just show up every day, even if it’s only for a few minutes, and see what happens.

As for my book, I don’t know if this new insight will solve everything. I hope I will finish this damn thing once and for all. Mostly, I feel pretty good. I’m trying. I’m writing again.

How to use friends and family in your fiction without pissing them off

One of the most frequently asked questions students ask in my fiction writing classes is, “How do I write about my life–my friends and family–without pissing them off?” Let’s be honest, the usual fiction disclaimer, All characters are a figment of the author’s imagination, any resemblance to real people living or dead is blah blah blah, just doesn’t cut it.

Everything is food for our fiction, including people we know. The good news is, much of real life is fairly boring; fiction spices it up. So here are 6 things you must do if you want to use people around you for, ahem, inspiration:

1. Ditch the guilt. You have to be willing to take risks on the page. Guilt will hold you back and stop you from digging into the deep stuff where the real stories are. Let it go.

2. Change names and details. The sooner you change Aunt Mabel the crazy quilter into Joey the crazy biscuit maker, you free yourself–and your character–to be who he/she really is. If you’re writing about a friend who picks their teeth with a toothpick when nervous, think of another odd habit that “your character” has. That’s our job, to make shit up, so be creative.

3. Change your mind. Stop thinking of the friend or family member and start thinking of the character with a life, feelings, hang-ups, shortcomings and bad habits of his or her own. When you are fully immersed in your characters, they will become more real to you than the people who sparked your idea for them in the first place.

4. Air out the story. Choose a few select folks to read a draft as soon as possible–preferably not the people you are writing about. If you can read it aloud in front of an audience, even better.You’ll know you have some rewriting to do and where.

5. Don’t remove; rewrite. Writers reflect what they see, but that doesn’t mean we have to expose the people we care about to humiliation or shame. Only you can decide if a line has been crossed. Before you delete, rewrite. That’s what revision is for–shaping raw emotions like humiliation and shame into good fiction.

6. Check your motives. Are you writing for yourself or for your audience? Are you writing to hurt someone else or to work through your own hurt? Words are powerful. Use them wisely.

Now, quit worrying and start writing!


 

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