Rubbing Virtual Shoulders via the Internet

There are two kinds of people in the world: those who are bestselling authors and those who get to interview them. Through the powers of the Internet, I have happily become friends with bestselling author Laura Munson. Along the way, I got the opportunity to speak to her on the phone and even got to meet her IRL (that's In Real Life for those who don't read tech speak). She graciously granted me the following interview about her memoir, how it became a bestseller and where she goes from here. Enjoy.

I Don't Buy It
Article first published as I Don't Buy It — An Interview with Author Laura Munson on Technorati.

We've all dreamed of the perfect comeback — a witty response that displays both intelligence and humanity, at the same time putting our antagonist in his or her place. But what is the perfect comeback when your husband says: "I don't love you anymore."

For writer Laura Munson, four little words — "I don't buy it" — set the stage for bringing her marriage back to life and launched a New York Times bestselling memoir called This Is Not the Story You Think It Is: A Season of Unlikely Happiness (now in paperback).

Laura is neither a doormat nor a masochist. She's a strong, educated woman living in the Montana wilds with her husband and two children. She rides horses, wields an axe, and had written 14 unpublished novels before her marriage hit a wall.

It was her own professional crisis that gave her the resources to react calmly to her husband's pronouncement and give him the space he needed to find his way. "This was not a knee-jerk reaction," said Munson. "I had had years of rejection from the publishing industry. After my dad died and I lost a big publishing deal, I was miserable. I had been working on my response to pain, learning to move through it and use it, when I recognized that my husband was suffering his own crisis of self."

That doesn't mean it was easy. "This was the most powerful pain I have ever felt and I knew it would take me down if I let it," said Munson. "But there was no fear in that moment. My husband had shown himself to be very loving and responsible, so this was a huge departure. Years of failure after years of career success were dragging him down."

In her mind, Laura gave her husband six months to figure things out. Along the way, he was distant, sometimes absent and often angry. Laura chose not to buy into the drama, exorcising her demons with fast horseback rides and long walks screaming at trees.

In July 2009, Munson wrote a shortened version of her story for the popular New York Times "Modern Love" column. The reaction crashed the media giant's website. "Most responses were full of recognition, gratitude and hope," said Munson. But not everyone was positive. Some accused Munson of letting her husband walk all over her or of simply being in denial.

Munson disagrees: "It wasn't really a risk because I couldn't control the outcome either way. It wasn't a strategy to stay married, either. It was a choice to let him find his way without sacrificing our family. You can learn not to take on someone else's issues."

Being a writer helped. "Writers are by nature empathic; we know how to climb into someone else's skin and ask what's really going on," she said. "I wrote my way through my crisis." Munson, who grew up on Chicago's affluent north shore, says the physical realities of living in Montana balance the cerebral life of a writer. "Montana was a big surprise gift to me. There is a tremendous invitation to face your fears. I trust the person I am here."

Seeking publication of her memoir could also have been risky, exposing her family's personal issues so publicly. "I always write to provide relief to myself and others," she said. "I felt a strong call to write the book that I needed at the time, but couldn't find. I wanted to read the story of someone who wasn't going to be buried by crisis, of someone who chose to take the high road."

"The book really isn't about marriage," said Munson. "It's about two people who encountered personal crisis, learned how to be responsible for our own happiness, and came back together as equal loving partners. It's really about two people's relationships with themselves."

Much like her marriage, Munson is ready to move on from being the main character in her own story. "I'm back to writing fiction," she said. "Having people read my work has been incredibly gratifying, but my job is to live in the present, own what is mine, create what I can, and let go of the rest."
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Thanks to Laura for the interview and thanks for reading. We would both love to hear your thoughts, so click here if to leave a comment.

Staying Connected — CMB Post

Originally posted on the now defunct Chicago Moms Blog:

The older I get, the more people I know, the harder it is to stay connected — even to people I've known my entire life and love very much. It's hard to say exactly what happens: we get busy; our lives are crowded with people, activities, chores and events; we move far away; we have families of our own. Perhaps the biggest culprit is time, or lack of it. Recent scientific evidence proves that the older we get, the faster time passes (or so it seems so to our aging brains). With all that goes on in our day-to-day lives, it's easy to lose touch.

Then tragedy strikes — someone dies and we feel lost and guilty. When my aunt passed away last week, I drove to Michigan for the funeral. My parents came up from Florida. My brother flew in from California. The aunts, uncles and cousins gathered around to mourn our loss. Without exception, when I encountered someone I hadn't seen in a long time, we greeted each other with an awkward combination of joy at reconnecting and sadness that these were the circumstances that brought us back together.

My aunt died at an inconvenient time for most of us. I'm not being flip, simply honest. For my immediate family, it was not possible for anyone else to take time off from work or the final days of school to attend the funeral, so I went alone. In many ways, it was a blessing. I was able to spend time with my family of origin without the burdens of being a mom and attending to the immediate needs of children. I could focus completely on another part of my family that had not had my undivided attention in years. 

Funerals are strange rituals, to be sure. We laugh and we cry. We tell stories and sit in silence. We are reminded of our founding families. We treasure and relive old memories. And we regret. We regret that we don't seem to make the effort to get together more often, just because we're family and we don't want it always to be at a sad occasion. We regret that we didn't call or send that birthday card or even a simple e-mail. We regret being selfish and absorbed in other things. We regret the lost opportunities, the missed chances, the unsaid "I love yous". 

But I've come to have a new respect for and understanding of funeral traditions. My brother and I both commented that when we were younger, the whole idea of funerals was creepy and bizarre. As we got older, we understood that the funeral rites themselves provide comfort to many people, giving us concrete things to do in a time that seems chaotic and uncertain.

At my aunt's funeral, we came to understand that the ritual is more than just comforting to those who are mourning. We gather together at sad times to celebrate a life lived and the family that surrounded that life. Rather than dreading the occasion, I finally realized that life cycle events are what define families. Maybe we shouldn't feel guilty that we haven't seen each other since the last wedding or funeral, but rather we should celebrate that we still make time to gather as a family at these important, life-changing moments. That's what families do. 

We cried buckets of tears for my aunt, who led a difficult life, didn't always make the best choices, and who died too soon. We reflected on the gifts she gave us, we comforted the children she loved (and who loved her) and we said goodbye. We also thanked her for allowing us to reconnect in her name. It was her final gift to us.

Susan Bearman can be found writing at Two Kinds of People and The Animal Store Blog, as well as freelancing at www.bearman.us and Twittering @2KoP. This is an original Chicago Moms Blog post.

Blogging and Feminism

How good does a female athlete have to be 

before we just call her an athlete?

— Anonymous

There are two kinds of people in the world: bloggers and mommy bloggers.

I've been thinking about this post for some time, not necessarily in terms of blogging, but in terms of feminism and the role it plays now that we are a decade into the 21st Century. I'm getting ready to send my daughter off into the world. She is bright and shiny and full of expectations about college life and beyond. Throughout her childhood, I've been reluctant to saddle her with baggage from times gone by.

On the other hand, I'm a little dismayed at the number of women I've met (many just a shade younger than I) who think that feminists are man-hating, humorless old windbags who have no relevance in today's world. Today's Chicago Woman editor Cassandra Gaddo wrote a great post called Dropping the F-Bomb: Why is Feminism a Dirty Word, that speaks to many of the controversies surrounding feminism and invites us to reopen the conversation.

And we do need to reopen it, because even if feminism is dead (although I hope not), sexism isn't. In fact, it's alive and well in the venerable New York Times, where just this week writer Jennifer Mendelsohn penned an article insultingly titled Honey, Don't Bother Mommy. I'm Too Busy Building My Brand. Not surprisingly, it's gathered a lot of buzz in the blogosphere.

Here's the thing: I don't mind being called a Mommy Blogger (although in this house, I'm Mama, so I guess that would make me a Mama Blogger). After all, I'm a mom and I blog. On this blog, sometimes I write about being a mom, sometimes I don't. I am a proud contributor to the Chicago Moms Blog, where I write regularly about my experiences as a mom.

I guess it's the language that gets to me, because I'm picky about words. Words are powerful — they carry weight and meaning and subtext that is both subtle and profound. "Mommy Blogger", like "Soccer Mom" before it, carries a wide range of connotations, as illustrated a full year ago by the social media guide Mashable, which posted a list of 10 Misconceptions About Mommy Bloggers.

Most style guidelines advise using gender-neutral language whenever possible: server vs. waitress or waiter; manager or executive, not businessman; actor, not actress. In fact, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, the word "actor" was originally used for both sexes (1581); we didn't see "actress" introduced until 1666, 85 years later. The Linguistic Society of America (LSA) puts it this way in the LSA Guidelines for Nonsexist Usage:

"Sexist practices are those that contribute to demeaning or ignoring women (or men) or to stereotyping either sex; sexism is often not a mater of intention but of effect."

I am arguably a member of the very first post-feminist generation. Women were pretty much done burning their bras by the time I got my first one. (Thank God, or gravity would have taken a bigger toll on me than it already has.) I didn't really follow the doings of Gloria Steinem and Betty Freidan back then, though I have certainly come to appreciate them.

My hero (some might say shero) was my mom, a quiet, reluctant feminist who fought sexism throughout her life and career, even in the female-centric world of primary education. After years of substituting in our school district and many wonderful recommendations, she did not get a job that she and most people in the community expected her to get. When a colleague asked the superintendent why my mom didn't get an offer, he said: "You know her husband. He's a bank president. She doesn't need this job." My mom forged ahead and got a job in higher education.

Sometimes sexism is blatant; sometimes is hard to discern, but it definitely still exists. I worry that our young women won't even recognize it until it has stymied them in some way. As part of that first post-feminist generation of young women, I believe we were sold a bill of goods. We were told we were equal. We were told not only that we could have it all, but that we should have it all. We were still being told how to live our lives.

Most of the women (and many of the men) I know have learned the hard way that it's not possible to have it all, and it's certainly not possible to have it all at once. According to the International Labour Organization, "the redistribution of financial responsibilities within the family has not ben matched by a redistribution of work responsibilities in the home. It is still women who do a disproportionate share of the work around the home. Women are working harder than ever, and many are now working a 'second shift'."

Like Cassandra Gaddo, I strongly believe that we need a new discussion in this country — not just about feminism and its role, but one that examines our core values about work, family, money and priorities. I hope it will be an interesting discussion — a kind, thoughtful one, not the screaming and yelling that today's media uses to mask the real issues.

Back to blogging for a moment. There are a lot of bloggers out there. The most recent statistics I could find, from way back in early 2009, claimed that Technorati had indexed more than 130 million blogs since 2002. Bloggers come in all stripes and colors: there are mommy bloggers and daddy bloggers, business bloggers and entertainment bloggers, rude bloggers and earnest bloggers, successful bloggers and defunct bloggers. This fascinating, evolving and almost indefinable world of the blogosphere is really nothing but bits and bytes, tiny pieces of data zipping around the Interwebs. It is at once profound and deeply personal; and ironically, in light of the backlash against Mommy Bloggers, perhaps the most democratic, egalitarian form of communication in history.

So, while I really don't mind if you call me a Mommy Blogger, why not just call me a Blogger? And while I definitely believe in equality, I don't believe that all bloggers are equal, so how about if you call me a Damn Fine Blogger? In fact, I would prefer simply Writer — Damn Fine Writer, if you insist.

Thanks for stopping. If you want to see me present the other side of the coin, where I argue that males and females are completely different, be sure to catch my latest Chicago Moms Blog post. And I love to read your comments — just click here.

"All this pitting of sex against sex, of quality against quality; all this claiming of superiority and imputing of inferiority belong to the private-school stage of human existence where there are sides, and it is necessary for one side to beat another side."

— Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own, 1929

Photo credit: Whistler's Mommy-Blogger by Mike Licht, NotionsCapital.com via Creative Commons License

Not Quite Published, Not Quite Famous

There are two kinds of people in the world: those who have been in The New York Times and those who haven't. 

In the last 30 days, the pages of the venerable Times, which has been reporting the news in this country daily since 1851, of course covered both Barack Obama and John McCain in this historic 2008 Presidential campaign, Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson as he wades through the muck of the current financial crisis, and the loss of Hollywood great Paul Newman. Regular readers have also been treated to the musings of the gifted Dick Cavett in his NY Times blog called Talk Show; would have seen 30 references to, quotes from and clips of Jon Stewart of the Daily Show; and would have found, disturbingly, 10 mentions of 15-year-old Miley Cyrus.

But discerning readers, those who pore over every word of what may arguably be the most famous newspaper in the world, may have seen another name, one that has never graced those pages before — mine. No, they didn't publish one of my blog posts. No, it wasn't a review of my yet to be published first novel. No, I didn't get my first major newspaper byline. It was a quote, and a relatively boring quote at that, about the election.

It all started several weeks ago, when I got a call to participate in a "nation-wide poll." I've lost my patience for people who invade my home via the telephone, but something about the pitch intrigued me and I stayed on the line. It turns out that I was one of 1,133 people polled by New York Times/CBS News Polls about the election. I spent about 45 minutes on the first call, and another 15 or 20 minutes on a separate follow-up call a couple of days later. Two articles resulted from that poll: the important one (i.e., the one that has my quote in paragraph 15 and which, ironically, is on the MSNBC Website, not the CBS News or NYT Websites) entitled Link to Bush still hurting McCain, poll finds; and the other one, McCain Seen as Less Likely to Bring Change, Poll Finds.

It was a fascinating process, listening to the questions and how they were posed. Some of the questions were open-ended, like "Regardless of how you intend to vote, what do you like most about Sarah Palin?" I said I thought she was good at reading a teleprompter. In looking over the poll results, my answer must have fallen into the "other" category. 

Other questions, in fact most questions, were multiple choice and, in several cases, I didn't like any of the answers. For example:  "If elected, Barack Obama would be 47 years old when he assumes office. Do you think his being 47 years old might make him too inexperienced to do the work the presidency requires, or do you think his age helps him have the fresh new ideas to do a good job as president?" The McCain version asked whether being 72 "would make it too difficult for him to do the work the presidency requires" or whether "his age helps him have the experience and wisdom to do a good job as president." 

In both cases, I answered that the chronological age of these candidates was the least of my worries and that I didn't want to choose either answer, which put me among the four percent in the DK (don't know) category for these two questions. I do know, I just thought those were stupid choices.

Now, if they had asked something like "Given the two people the candidates picked as running mates, who would you be most afraid of dying in office, McCain or Obama?" — that is a question I could answer. Unfortunately, it was not one of the questions.

The follow up interview gave me a little more wiggle room to answer questions directly, rather than just picking A, B or C. I tried to be honest and not sound like an idiot. Both interviewers asked if they could use my name, age and hometown, and I agreed. I think if you are going to give an opinion, you should be willing to stand by it and be identified. One of them asked if I would be willing to be interviewed on camera. This is where I had to draw the line. Rumor has it that the camera adds 10 pounds, and I just can't afford that right now. 

At the end of the second conversation, the interviewer asked me, off the record, what kind of work I do. I said that I was a writer. "Ah, that explains it," she said. Explains what? Why I was so snarky and opinionated? Why my answers took off like runaway trains? What, woman, what? I waited uneasily for her to continue. "You are very articulate," she said. "Most people just ramble on and and on and talk in circles. You made your point clearly and moved on." Those editorial comments, unfortunately, did not make it into the article. But at least they spelled my name right.

Have an opinion you would like to share? I'm polling your comments here.

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