Monday, September 21, 2020

Reality versus Dreams; Sympathy versus Empathy

 


The good news: Yes, I'm really in San Francisco. After years of dreaming of sailing under the Golden Gate, and two months of (slow & fun) sailing north from San Diego, we finally did it. Yay for us!

The bad news: As I jumped down to tie us up in our new slip on day one in SF, my foot caught slightly and I landed on the cement dock wrong. Very wrong. As in, I broke a bone in my knee (I have a non displaced fracture of my tibial plateau, to be exact).

So, dreams versus reality. Reality is me on crutches, hobbling the 300 yards to stand in the shadow of The Ballpark formerly known as AT&T Park, only to hobble home to the boat, exhausted. Wearing my masks of course. One for Covid, one for combating the poor air quality. Did I mention the air quality here has been among the worst in the country for the last two weeks due to wildfires nearby? Oh, and the Giants may not even make it into the playoffs. Reality. 

In other news, I am learning just how hard it is to get around in the world with one leg. Getting in and out of cars is a challenge (getting in an out of a v-berth isn't easy either!), but even trickier is opening doors and gates while on crutches. Yes, I can swing along on crutches (for the first 200 yards or so), but, in general, moving around in the modern world with a physical disability is a bitch. 

You'd think I would know this already, having taken care of my mom off and on since her stroke in 2011 until she died last year. One of her physical symptoms (she had dementia, so some of her problems were invisible) was a left leg that never quite "behaved" following her stroke. She had pain and neuropathy in that foot and leg for the rest of her life. So, yeah, I knew. I was there—I saw it, experienced it, was inconvenienced by it, and very much sympathized with her frustration. I sympathized.

As much as I tried, it was hard to empathize with her, though I certainly tried to put myself in her shoes. I felt bad for her, but I didn't feel her pain. I was full of life and energy, I could walk so much faster without waiting for her to push along in her walker. I wanted to help, and was happy to assist, and to push her wheelchair once she got one, but I don't think I truly empathized. Boy, do I now.

It is so hard to know you could almost do something, something so simple, but have to ask someone for help. Help with walking, help with tying your shoe, help with getting in a door, putting on a backpack, getting onto your own boat...the list goes on. And it's so great to sit in a shower on the "handicapped" bench and feel the hot water pounding you clean, to have someone bring you fresh fruit from the farmer's market, to lie down after an exhausting bout of doing dishes on one leg,

Oh, yes, Mom, I get it now. Thanks for your patience with my often-poorly-hidden impatience, and I hope my own frustration didn't show itself too often. Hopefully, I will remember how to feel empathy once I am back to being truly bi-pedal. I can see the world is short of empathy right now, both in private and public venues.

What does this have to do with writing? Not much, but some. Words matter. When we write that someone empathized or sympathized, it is important to know the difference. And empathy is the first job of a writer, and an important step to becoming truly human, long before the words fill the pages. Putting yourself in someone else's skin lets you see the world anew. Sometimes that is painful, but it is always revealing.

Speaking of writing, I have read a couple of very fine manuscripts recently, which gives me hope in these dark times. I have also read some amazing published works. Two I highly recommend: The Beekeeper of Aleppo and The Girl with the Louding Voice. Thank you, writers.

Hasta pronto!


Sunday, July 26, 2020

Visual Metaphors and Working on the Details



Hola! We've settled down for a while at a mooring in lovely Morro Bay, so you get to see a couple of pretty pics this month. We'll be leaving soon, but for now, it is very nice to be in a calm bay (and it has been a perfect place to get a lot of work done!).



This month I was published in the Brevity Nonfiction blog, and here's where you can find that post —on description and details and expository in general—along with my previous blog post for them on "hooking" readers.

They say "God is in the details" and also that "The Devil is in the details" and naturally, both are true. I'm an atheist, but I still see the GOD (Good Orderly Direction) in the finely crafted details that make up most great art. And I think that the "Devil" in writing is in the details that are vague or non-existant.

This month I was treated to a visual metaphor for this, by visiting Bruce Munro's Field of Light at Sensorio, near Paso Robles.  Each individual light was small and insignificant—even once they began to glow at twilight—yet when the sun had set, and the entirety of the field was lit and the whole creation harmonized together, the result was breathtaking.


Writing is a lot like that...you pick a word, type it, pick another, place it after the first. Go back and erase one. Add two or three more. After months or years, you have a whole field of lights working together (or not working together in which case you hire an editor of course, to help you achieve harmony). 

Speaking of harmony, I love working in a harmonious community, and as many of you know, I belong to two wonderful writing communities. One is my Southern California Writers Conference (SCWC) family—and I'll be posting more about upcoming virtual get-togethers with SCWC in a future post—and the other is San Diego Writers, Ink (SDWI). 

Right now, SDWI is doing their annual fundraiser, Blazing Laptops, and I am helping to raise money for this fine nonprofit and the good work they do in our community of writers—new, emerging and those giving back. Click here to donate. Thanks for your consideration.


Now...get out and enjoy the sunshine (or the gray or the rain) wearing your mask, of course. You'll come back to your computer renewed and refreshed.
hasta pronto!



Sunday, June 14, 2020

Sailing is Like Writing Because...(a new & updated version)

I've been sailing, and living aboard a sailboat, for most of the last 30 years. I'm also a writer, and have worked at some combination of writing, editing, publishing, and teaching writing for the last two decades. So, I know a little bit about both pursuits. I wrote an earlier version of this a few years back, which I just updated, below.
Sailing is like writing because:

You need a destination, but often the best part of the voyage happens when you get off course—assuming you don't end up on the rocks. We write to get to the end of the story, but often we don't know what that will look like, until we get there.

Getting there is not just half the fun, it's all the fun; sailing is about enjoying the moment, being completely in the here and now, not rushing toward some arbitrary goal (if you were in a rush, you'd have a power boat, or an airplane!).

It's something people all over the world have been doing for thousands of years, in order to explore, learn, and reach out—it is still fun to do, and nearly impossible to get to be an "expert" at!

Most people think it is easy, even if they've never done it. It's enviable, but somehow people still think they could easily do it, too, if they just had the time...Wish I had a dollar for every time someone said, "Gosh, that must be such a fun life, traveling and living on a boat." Sure it is, sometimes, but it is hard work a lot of the time.

Those who don't sail don't "get" it—and that's okay. It's impossible to explain what's so darn great about it, if you don't experience it yourself, in just the right way.

Sailing, like writing, uses your body and mind for an activity that often taxes them, but combines and unites them in unique ways that can sometimes be transcendent—allowing us to glimpse what is eternal and true.  
We are sailing north, and have gotten as far as the Santa Barbara Channel. Tucked into Channel Islands harbor, we are awaiting the proper winds to continue on our journey. This isn't like writer's block (which I don't believe in), this is simply us being patient, and taking care to stay safe (if you have all your eggs in one basket—watch that basket!). 
You almost never have to stop writing to save your life. In fact, sometimes you have to write to save it. So that is one way that sailing is NOT like writing. 
Good news is, I did some writing today—and not just this blog post. I'll keep you updated on our travels.
hasta pronto!

Friday, April 17, 2020

Fortunate Me, Fortunate Us


Yeah, I know...We have all been taught to keep the good stuff to ourself, or a few good friends. And that no one wants to hear about how good our life is, when it is.
But maybe that isn't true.
Especially now, when so many of us are struggling with being "stuck." Stuck at home, stuck with bills and without work, stuck in our writing projects.
So, I just wanted to say that I am feeling so grateful for the following gifts:
1. To have a wonderful partner in all of this madness... a best friend (and lover!) to spend my days and nights with, to go walking with, talk with, watch documentaries and dumb movies with, sip wine with, try recipes with.
2. To have work I love, that I feel is pretty important—relatively, not like brain surgery—and that contributes to good in the world (more great books!) and that does not pollute, promote evil, or even celebrate mediocrity.
3. That Russel and I both work from home, so that we can keep on working through all this madness. Though we hoped to be sailing up the coast by now, being stuck in San Diego on a boat is not a terrible place to be.
4. My great friends, who I chat with on Facebook/Instagram/Twitter, text with occasionally, and even meet with on Zoom once in a while. And great clients who keep the work coming in...many of whom have become great friends.
5. That all of our family members are healthy (so far) and feeling fine, which is undoubtedly the very best thing of all.
See if you can come up with 5 things you are grateful for. You don't need to write the list down, but it may help. Why not? You have the time.
Take care, my friends—stay safe, and hasta pronto!

Monday, March 9, 2020

It is (almost) Spring and Visualization is Key


It is almost officially Spring and I came home from my morning walk today with a handful of wildflowers, so I'll start by wishing you all a Happy Spring. We are expecting showers in So Cal, so that is another big reason to celebrate.

This rainy week will be the perfect time for me to batten down the hatches, make veggie soups, and get some work done. I'm currently line-editing Angel Flight—the follow-up to Flygirl by R.D. Kardon—which will be out in September. There is plenty of time for you to read her first book, if you haven't already!

 Nope, this is not my bouquet, but it looks similar, and it's a pretty image.

I am using this month's blog post mainly to share an article I wrote for "Books & Buzz," an online magazine. This is my fifth article for them, I think, and may well be my favorite so far, because I feel so strongly about the subject.

Don't just visualize doing it, click here to read my piece about visual writing.

hasta pronto!