Glossolaliac

Writing obsessions

I've been marinating on my obsessions ever since that real writers workshop, because I'm feeling a bit blocked and the writer lady said that the best things to write about are the scenes that you can't get out of your head.

Problem is, the scenes that I can't get out of my head are all sucky and disturbing.

Scenes that I can't get out of my head tend to be my nightmares and fears, the ones that I have to consciously talk myself out of thinking about. Picking up a dead baby. Drowning. Rape. Abandonment. The car spinning out of control, crashing into oncoming traffic, metal bent and glass shattered and bodies jerked. That final "end to end" scene from Requiem for a Dream. Those are the scenes that haunt me and the last thing in the world that I want to do is write about them. I would give anything to never have to see them played in my head again.

Would they gain or lose power if saddled with details? Would they rise or fall if made into fiction?

I'm not sure if I really want to know.

Gettin' my learn on

I love TED talks. TED 10 is on right now, and I wish I was there. Fortunately, TED anticipated this problem and put all their talks online.

Conveniently, Mashable collected some of the best TED talks on social media from prior years and posted them as well. It's like they totally get the potential of this internet thing. These talks discuss the democratization of media, message, intimacy and organizing - that is, the future of public interaction and everything. This here is my favorite from the Mashable list:

Good stuff.

Real writers workshop

Ever since the first Dave Eggers book made me go wow, I vowed that I would one day live in a city with an 826 and I would offer myself on the alter of writing and volunteerism and helping the childrens learn.

So now I live down the street from an 826 and I've not volunteered at all. But. I did notice its existence and open its email, and finding a series of writers workshops, I thought, neat. I write. I could use some workshopping. At least I could use some getting out of the house and feeling like a person who goes to writers workshops (see Slippage, below).

This with the understanding that I attend the workshop with no intention of workshopping at all, at least not in the sense that requires me reading anything of mine out loud or actually talking to people about writing. I write better if I can't see you and you can't see me. See.

So there I was.

Looking around at the writers workshop and feeling like not a real writer.

What you need to be a real writer, based entirely on my observations of the room and subjectively feeling like not one, is this:

• Unkempt hair. This I have. Largely because I haven't showered.
• Glasses. Artsy, thick frames. I'm blind but I don't wear the glasses because they fuck with my depth perception and make me fall down stairs. Then I have to explain that my husband doesn't really hit me, and the whole conversation goes sideways.
• Fingerless gloves. Apparently this is still a thing.
• A recycled line-less notebook.
• The "courage to defy the conventions of an MFA or J-school." That's masters of fine arts and journalism school for you lackademics. I find it weird when someone conspiratorially refers to "us and our MFA mindset." I have no idea what that means. I'm a lawyer who does PR, so MFA that bitches.
• The willingness to begin all your sentences with, "as an author..."
• And a neat metaphor for "voice." Like, a tourguide who conveys the reader through different places and languages and tones as s/he travels through the continent or food court or whatever that is the novel or essay.

What was helpful was the reminder that obsession feeds writing, that the best things to write about are the things you are obsessed with and can't get out of your head.

Like how right now I'm obsessed with being a real writer.

Oh yes, I'll go again.

Where do you see yourself in five years?

That question may have been relevant ten, fifteen, twenty years ago, though it was never all that revealing. Fact is, at the rate technology is changing now, nobody knows where they'll be in five years and anybody that pretends to is lying.

What were you doing five years ago? Did you think you'd be here?

An interviewer asking such a standard, unimaginative, pro forma question reveals far more about the job than about the applicant. The question, couched next to, no doubt, "what are your biggest strengths and weaknesses?" shows only that some HR person once read some HR manual that began with an example of questions that ought to be asked on an interview. And that's as far as they got.

These are useless, because they are neither related to the job at hand, nor to the applicants' ability to perform, and their very asking shows disrespect for both by distracting from any information that might actually be helpful. Better questions would relate to specific job situations, examples and actual experiences.

This, by the way, from the job interview at which I was in less than peak form, and from which I have not yet heard, but about which I'm privately stewing, and regarding which I think the interview was bullocks.

I have no idea where I'll be in five years. Neither do you.

I rather like it that way.

Shrinking world update

Interesting morning session with South Sound PRSA today - for the record, I am not a member of PRSA, because I can't imagine how they could possibly justify the hundred or so dollar membership fee, but I do occasionally show up, because I like to see who's in the business and the morning discussions are a much more affordable eight dollars.

This morning's panel included a young journalist just out of school, emanating blonde and green, a former TNT reporter currently with the county, who I happen to like and respect, and a guy from The Feary Group, who I am willing to like and respect.

What we learned: most PR people are still scared shitless by social media. This despite the fact half the PR world promotes themselves as social media experts (even though few actually are).

The fact is, it's really hard to explain the value and potential of Twitter until you start playing with it, and even then it takes about 6 months of being open-minded to actually get it. Some explained it as a headline service, others as an immediate conversation. I think the best explanation was that it's information that you would like to get immediately that relates to your daily life. But that's only at the most basic level - one of the things that I like about Twitter is that it puts me in the middle of interesting thoughts or conversations that I probably would not have otherwise had. Sure some people are boring, but you don't have to follow them. The people who are interesting add some value to your everyday experience. 

We agreed that Facebook is better reserved to actual friends and family, but of course an organization can have it's own Facebook page (as opposed to a personal page from a reporter or executive) to get around all that. Journalists and PR people all seem willing to connect on LinkedIn but I have yet to hear of that particular connection ever turning into a job, story, or even a real conversation - we're all on there, but does it do anything? Blogs are only what you make of them, and they have to be a labor of love (I love you, glossolalia, but you exist as my personal outlet and not as a hit generator).

Examples of good and bad. Good: Rep. Jay Inslee's Flickr stream during the inauguration of behind the scenes shots. Bad: Gov. Gregoire's blog on her official website (not really bloggy, and bo-ring).

There was quite a bit of fear in the room, not only about what to do with this new new social media thing, but also about accuracy, lines between public and private, what it's ok to ignore and what requires a response.

What we have to recognize is that society is already changed. The line between professional and personal is ever more fuzzy, which could lead to fewer stupid personal moments in public or to less professional hypocrisy, both of which are a good thing.

As for accuracy, the web is remarkably self-correcting. If a traffic-generating site or feed throws up something demonstrably wrong, people will point it out. Wikis rely on this crowdsourcing, and it works.

When to ignore and when to respond? Well, people, you do have to use your judgment here and there. There are no hard and fast rules, but if there is a conversation going on then it's going to happen with you or without you, and wouldn't you rather be a part of it? I think yes in most instances, but from a campaign perspective, there were certainly conversations going on where our participation would not have gained us any value. So judgement plays a role.

This morning's panel was only an hour, but we could have talked about this stuff all day. While social media may be a shiny new toy, people instinctively understand that it's also the direction in which most communications are moving and it has the potential to dramatically change the way we interact with information.

What's not scary is that real people still add real value in a social media environment. Your ability to get the most out of social media outlets depends on your willingness to be both interested and interesting.

Arts' inherent value

I wish I could have seen Wynton Marsalis' recent, trumpet-punctuated, Nancy Hanks Lecture at the Kennedy Center talking about the arts and their value above and beyond just jobs (which they do create/provide) but as something both higher, more spiritual, and base, more fundamental, essential to our shared experience.

Because the people who put on the speech have (stupidly and short-sightedly) locked it into a tiny screen with a long intro that can't be edited, embedded or shared, it's not easy to get their message out. But, if you're patient and determined, you can wait through the interminably boring intro and see the small screen version here, or read the highlights here.

One of my friends used to say that all art - literature, painting, music - is a conversation, across ages, between authors, an if you're paying attention you can track each new contribution's ancestry. She was right. Wynton makes it even more clear, and his message, his contribution to the conversation, is well worth hearing.

Making news

Ohboyohboyohboy another prime time White House presser!

The excitement trickling through the ether (blogosphere, twitterverse, etc., etc.) is simply palpable. If you're into that sort of thing.

And there's nothing that the ether is more into than slamming the mainstream media. What's left of it anyway. Frankly, I disagree.

One friend points here as an example of press corps hypocrisy, arguing perhaps that a press once deferential ought always be deferential. But, as I said in the comments there,

Reporters are required to sell news, not make it or just report it, which is why they have to look for something sensational, unusual, or that hasn’t been said before, regardless of whether we are at war or peace with a popular or unpopular president. The gotcha game helps sell, and every president has master spinners that train them in tricks to stay on message. None of this is new.

And I think what my friend really meant was that a press deferential to an unpopular war president ought to be more deferential to a popular peace president, which is dreamy but just not the way it works. Honestly, that doesn't bother me. We could go on and on about press dereliction of duty during the Bush years, but it wouldn't be entirely accurate, and it wouldn't help us any now.

Moving on.

The full Politico piece, quoted by the blog above, better describes the presser from the press' point of view.

The fact is that it's a game, much like a lawsuit is a game. There are real consequences, yes, but it is an artful thrust and parry at which each side is practiced, and each side will relish a win - whether that win comes in a reevaluation of a previously unstudied policy or a redirection of a question back to the main message.

This is the fun part. Seeing if you have the discipline and the intellect to stay on message, seeing if they have the popular interest and background support to push you off.

Somewhere in the middle is what we call the news.

News, journalism and taking sides

Said a few things here before about the decline of the newspaper, and with the #2 dailies in two towns I recently lived in recently closed (buh-bye Rocky Mountain News, Seattle P.I.) it's been on my mind a bit more lately.

We all know that news is changing, but I would argue (like this guy) that we ought to focus on sustaining good journalism, instead of saving the old-fashioned delivery system of the newspaper. Sorry to the people who like hard copies, but presumably there were people who liked riding horses, and yet they eventually got a car.

Then there's the concern (here in the NYT) that as we self-edit, we'll edit out everything we don't agree with, leading to polarization, anomie and, presumably, the end of the free world. But with more access to better and broader news aggregators, I've found that it's far easier to see what the other side is saying (though I'm probably still not linking to it). My interest in the other side comes not from any Art of War jujitsu ambitions, but from a simple communications standpoint, bolstered by a bit of legal training - how can you make an argument if you don't know what the opposite argument will be?

New kid vs. senior partner: what's a twitter feed?

We're doing some part-time communications consulting for a local firm here in town, and yesterday we ran our head right smack into a wall.

"Why aren't people signing up for this conference?" He asks. Well, because we haven't been telling people about it because you, boss man, haven't signed off on the emails/advisories/outreach that would let people know it was happening. Apparently because you were waiting for this meeting.

"What can we do to get the word out?" He asks. Well, there's lots of stuff starting with the lists you already have of interested industry people and working outward toward trade publications as well as local and social media.

"What's a twitter feed?" He asks. Which, in a normal person who wasn't hosting a conference to discuss cutting edge technology, might be a reasonable question. But when the idea for having several twitter channels comes from one of the conference sponsors, and the conference is in fact focused on new, interactive technology that will give people real time control over the entire electrical grid, it becomes a *facepalm* moment. He starts to huff and puff about how if they want to pay for that, whatever that thing is, well, they can just go ahead and do it but it's not in our budget. Right, we say softly, well, it's free. Oh. Ok, then, they should just do whatever they want to do with that - but we need to focus right now on getting the word out.

Oy.

We see no feasible way of explaining the reach and purpose of the various forms of social networking so that he might either get it or at least see how valuable it would be in this immediate instance, given the short amount of time and evident lack of interest. Another question comes in about whether there will be a live webcast or someone liveblogging. We decide not to pass that one on.

Most PR people, and certainly most technology people, have been sucking up social media like a sponge over the past few years, acclimating to it with accelerating velocity and almost daily finding new and better ways to use it personally and professionally and across the very blurry lines between the two. So much so that I had forgotten that there are still people, senior partners most of them, who stubbornly insist that they can continue to provde top-notch consulting and communications services while printing out every email, having weekly in-person meetings and leaving all that technology stuff to someone else. Then they wonder why there are typos on the website and how come the word isn't getting out. Oy.

There's no reason, it's just our policy

I can't stop watching TED talks. Really, there's no better way to spend 20mins. Here's one on practical wisdom and doing well by doing good. He discusses over-reliance on rules and how it fucks up community and empathy and leads us down to mediocrity. C'mon kids, let's end the war on wisdom.