Let Your Colors Burst

Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst — Firework, by Katy Perry

There are two kinds of people in the world: those who love fireworks and those who have fizzled. I'm not a huge fan of the Fourth of July since my parents moved to Florida. It seems like we're always scrambling for something fun to do and never quite getting it together. My youngest boys are now in the high school marching band, which makes our local parade a lot more fun than it used to be, but that's damning with faint praise. I do love the fireworks, though, which our town does well, right over the lake, just a five minute walk from my house.

When I was a kid, we went to see fireworks every year in Michigan, battling the mosquitoes and walking what seemed like long distances for short shows, but I still loved it, and I thought the rest of my family did, too. Turns out not so much as far as my dad is concerned, who has long since turned to watching the pale imitation of televised fireworks from Washington, DC.

It's so not the same.

Beautiful, etherial, loud, and gaudy, fireworks can only truly be enjoyed live and in person. They are not better on a giant scoreboard or in slow-motion instant replay. You cannot capture their essence on film or digital images, in still or moving pictures.

I love the thrill of the booms and bangs as the sound ricochets off the buildings and rumbles up through the ground straight into my heart. I love the glittering lights and jeweled colors, the smell of the gun powder, and the spidery smoke entrails left behind. I love the collective oohs and aahs of the crowd. While others are ignited by the grand finale, that explosive bouquet at the end, I prefer the individual blooms earlier in the show, so I can pay complete attention to every detail, comparing one to the next.

And that is the best part about fireworks. It is one of the few remaining activities in life that requires you to be absolutely in the moment…because if you're not, you'll miss it. You have to be right there, right then to see and hear and smell and feel the brief burst of joy that only a firework can offer.

Our life is full of missed moments when we're too busy to pay attention. The long Fourth of July weekend is over, but I'm grateful that the pyrotechnics of the holiday once again have reminded me to enjoy our short summer before it flames out, too.

Hope you had a great Fourth. Did you celebrate with fireworks?

Many Ways of Going Forward

There are many ways of going forward, but only one way of standing still. — Franklin D. Roosevelt

Bet you can guess the theme of this post—there are two kinds of people in the world: those who move forward, and those stand still.

A few years ago, I realized that to avoid being left in the dust of the horserace that is writing, I had better start moving forward. It was a good call. In the five years since I started writing this blog, here are just of few of the changes that have taken place:

• Amazon has taken over the world (at least the retail world, and certainly the book-selling world).
• Borders shut its doors.
• Self-publishing has gone from "vanity publishing" to a method embraced by even heavy-hitting authors.
• E-publishing has grown exponentially, with one in four Americans now owning a tablet, and one in five owning a dedicated e-reader.
• Americans live online—at least 244.1 million (or 76.5%) of us do.
• Blogging has changed from online personal diaries to big business, with even the largest, most respected media outlets and companies boasting at least one, often many blogs. "Blogger" now really just means "writer".
• Social networking has co-opted both networking and socializing.
• We've gone app-crazy—in December 2008, there were about 10K iPhone apps; by January 2013, there were more than 775,000, and that doesn't even count all the other apps for all the other platforms now available. 

You get my point. I was right (I love being right) about how quickly the world of writing was changing—and continues to change. Then why are so many writers still stuck with the myopic vision of publication that reigned for all those decades before the Internet took hold?

I talk to a lot of writers and I honestly believe the number one reason is fear. Fear of change. Fear of technology. But mostly fear that their long-held dream won't come true. You know the dream: being a best-selling, critically acclaimed author published by a big-name house, toasted by the glittering literati, celebrated on national talk shows, and holding court over admiring fans at champagne-laced readings all over the world.

OK, that dream won't come true—at least not for most writers. But it never did come true for most writers. Here's the good news: in the new world order of publishing, there are so many more dreams that are possible for so many more writers. If you are an excellent writer willing to work hard, you can become a published author. You can write online for your business. You can blog about your travels or your hobby or your passion. You can write a book and people will be able to read it in a real live paper version or on their favorite readers.

But you can't do it standing still. And you shouldn't do it unless you have a plan and get to know what's going on out there in the publishing world.

Five years ago, I started this blog with nary a clue as to what I was doing. Then I jumped into Facebook. And Twitter. And Pinterest. And WordPress—first .com and then .org. I learned some code. I learned what worked and what didn't. I started giving classes on social networking. Last fall, I conducted a successful Kickstarter campaign to fund the production and printing of my first picture book, the Animal Store Alphabet Book. I started with a great idea, a fabulous illustrator, and a 21-page business plan. Hard-cover copies of that book came to life on January 1 of this year and today children and bookstores and libraries have copies of it.

Now I'm excited to be teaming up with the dynamic April Eberhardt, a self-described "literary agent for change". We're pooling our collective knowledge and experience, coupling it with our enthusiasm for the ever-exciting, ever-changing world of publishing, and bundling it together into a workshop that we call Pathways to Publication: Choosing the Best Way to Reach Your Readers.

If you want to take a step forward, I hope you'll consider joining us on June 7 in Chicago (the day before Printers Row Lit Fest). Click here for more information and to register. Special thanks to Karen Gray-Keeler and Where Are We Going for supporting this project.

As excited as I am about all these possibilities, and before I started any of this, I learned how to write…because no matter which path you choose, it's the writing that counts.

Have you taken a step off the dime? How are you moving forward?

Them's Fightin' Words

There are two kinds of people in the world: risk takers and scaredy cats. I've been thinking a lot about taking more risks as a writer. I think it's key, at least for me, to be braver, less coy, unafraid to come out from behind my protective armor. It's time for me to stop caring so much about what people will think of me because they might not like something I write. That being said, let's start again.

There are two kinds of people in the world: balls-out risk takers and chicken shits.

There. Do you hate me yet? The funny thing is that I swear like a sailor in real life, but somehow it seems…rude…in print. Using profanity in my writing, however, is not what I'm talking about when I say I need to take risks.

So, in an effort to be less chickenshitty, I'm opening the doors and windows of my comfortable writing home and stepping out into the big bad writing world. I'm joining new groups and exposing myself to new experiences. Like Write Club.

Here's what their website says about Write Club:

WRITE CLUB is bare knuckled lit.
WRITE CLUB is literature as blood sport.
WRITE CLUB does good without being annoying about it.
WRITE CLUB eats trouble and shits money.
WRITE CLUB is coming to your town.

2 opposing writers.
2 opposing ideas.
7 minutes apiece.
Audience picks a winner.
Writers compete for cash going to a charity of their choosing.

Here's what I say about Write Club:

It's kind of like debate team meets poetry slam—part preparation, part performance. And it's risky. The writers/performers take a risk. They put themselves and their writing out there for the world—or at least the audience—to cheer … or not. There is a winner and a loser.

In case you haven't figured it out by now, Write Club is a take off on the movie Fight Club. Now, I've never seen Fight Club, but even I know the first rule:



Write Club has rules, too, and the first rule is that everyone who attends must tell five to seven people about Write Club.

Here are the other rules.

Consider yourself told.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, no, I have not (yet) stepped into the Write Club ring. But I'm working my way up to it, since it seems that it might be the ultimate expression of Two Kinds of People.

Write Club got its start here in Chicago, and now has chapters in Evanston, Atlanta, Athens (GA), San Francisco, and Toronto. The next bout in Evanston is this Monday, May 6, 7:00 p.m. at Space. In Chicago, the next bout is at The Hideout, Tuesday, May 21, 7:00 p.m. Other cities, check your local listings.

Writers, what brave steps have you or are you taking in your writing? Other folks, are you taking any bold risks in your life these days?

P.S. And just because I'm this much of a word nerd, I looked up the origin of them's "fightin' words." Looks like the phrase was first used by Ring Lardner (a fellow Michigander) in Gullible's Travels c. 1917.

George Saunders, Stephen Toblowsky and Me

There are two kinds of people in the world, and I have been all of them. Infantile and wise. Majestic and wretched. Crestfallen and elated. Gracious and a horse’s ass. I have been these people and many, many more.

As a writer, this duplicity or plurality of being is important on many levels. Obviously, it's the name of my blog—Two Kinds of People (or 2KoP). I find that it’s a perfect vantage point from which to explore a whole variety of subjects in my writing—a sort of literary springboard.

I’m a self-admitted public radio (NPR) junkie, and two recent interviews have generated some writerly “ah-ha” moments that have made me understand that my interest in “Two Kinds of People” has something to offer all writers … read more on Write It Sideways.

[This post was originally published on Write It Sideways on March 25, 2013.]

Steubenville and (Post) Feminism

feminism (noun)

the belief that women should be allowed the same rights, power, and opportunities as men and be treated in the same way, or the set of activities intended to achieve this state.

There are two kind of people in the world: those who understand that rape is a crime, and those who make excuses for it. A couple of years ago, Forbes ran a post called "Who's Afraid of Post-feminism?" by Jenna Goudreau. After listening to and reading about the Steubenville rape and subsequent trial and conviction, I have to say that I'm not too happy to be living in post-feminist world, a world where a young female victim is still being blamed for the crimes committed against her by young men.

I am shocked that those boys and their friends thought it was OK to use new media to further victimize this young woman. I am shocked that traditional media further violated her by revealing her name and calling the conviction of the young men "a tragedy."

In the mid seventies, at the height of the modern feminism movement, the Take Back the Night (TBTN) movement began as stand against sexual violence. I know a young woman whose greatest fear is of being raped. She lives near a college campus and, in a sad irony, her terror began when she first heard students participating in a TBTN event as a young girl. Each year, as she heard the marchers protesting continued sexual violence in her own neighborhood, and realized that women were simply not safe—she was not safe.

And she's right.

Those young men in Stubenville shared their crimes across the interwebs and others participated, passing along appalling photos of the crime in process and adding lurid comments. No one called a halt. No one turned the Tweets over to the police or even to an adult who could intervene. That's a tragedy and, to my mind, a crime.

Until and unless we reach a point where women can make personal choices (good, bad or indifferent) and still be safe from sexual assault, until we stop hiding behind "boys will be boys" and victim blaming, then I'm revoking the "post" from post-feminism.

In 2009, Rebecca Whisnant wrote an essay called "Feminist Perspectives on Rape", found in the The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. She concludes:

"Feminist theorizing about rape draws on a rich tradition of feminist scholarship in many disciplines, as well as on women's insights into their own rape experiences and on the knowledge gained through decades of feminist anti-violence activism. As such theorizing continues to develop—growing both more radical in its challenges to patriarchal social and sexual assumptions, and more global and intersectional in its analysis—it constitutes an essential support for feminist movements against sexual violence."

When it comes to rape, there can be nothing "post" about feminism. When it comes to rape, we must all be feminists. Our feminism must become more radical in its challenges against sexual violence. Feminism is not a dirty word. Feminism is not a crime. Rape is.

So go ahead, call me a feminist. I can take it. How about you?

photo credit: Slutwalk NYC October 2011 Shankbone 28 by David Shankbone via a Creative Commons License

Sleepless in Chicago

You have to admit, Papa sleeping in a chair makes a good napping place for baby Molly.

There are two three kinds of people in the world: side sleepers (fetal or semi-fetal position), back sleepers (supine or royal position), and stomach sleepers (prone position). Unless, of course, you happen to be my dad (see photo), in which case your favorite sleeping position is in a chair, head thrown back and snoring loudly, or chin slumped to chest (usually going back and forth between the two).

Best practices in pediatrics these days say to put infants to sleep on their backs. According to the National Institute of Child Health's public information campaign called "Safe to Sleep" (formerly "Back to Sleep"), putting infants to sleep on their backs significantly reduces the incidence of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS).

This is great news for parents and babies of the 21st Century, but it comes decades too late for me. I was born when pediatric best practices said to put babies to sleep on their stomachs, so I am and always have been a stomach sleeper. This is more than you really need to know about me, but I bring it up because I have been told stop sleeping on my stomach.

I won't bore you with the medical reasons, but I will ask for your help. Except during pregnancy, I have always slept on my stomach. And while meeting my newborns was a joy beyond measure, being able to sleep on my stomach again was a very close second.

For years we were told it takes 21 days to break a bad habit or start a good one. I've never believed that statistic, and more recent research says the it really takes between 18 and 254 days, depending on your level of commitment and other factors. But even on the far end of that scale, the change happens only when you're making a conscious choice to change. Literally conscious—you are awake and alert and choosing to make a change. Here's my question: how do you change a habit when you are unconscious, i.e., asleep?

I'm doing everything I've been told to do to try to become a side sleeper (I'll never be able to sleep on my back, which is a good thing because it would probably involve snoring). I use one kind of pillow under my head, and sleep with another pillow between my knees, and a third in front of my chest to support the "upper" arm. But I'm still confused. What am I supposed to do with that "bottom" arm? Do I stick it under my head? Shove it down under the side pillow next to the "upper" arm? Nothing is working.

Shifting positions is problematic with all those pillows, too, not to mention disruptive to my husband's sleep. I've also been having even crazier dreams than usual, adding to my general feeling of exhaustion. If you have a suggestion, please let me know in the comments. I don't think I can last 254 days.

Have you ever had to change your sleeping habits? Or any other habit? Leave a comment if you have a good tip.

Wordless Wednesday #16: Come Sail Away with Me?

Wordless Wednesday. Three choices.

1. Tell me what Two Kinds of People this photo represents  ("There are two kinds of people in the world: … .") 
2. Writing prompt for your own post, or just add a poem/short piece in the comments. To repost the photo, include ©201e Susan Bearman @Two Kinds of People). 
3. Email your own 2KoP Wordless Wednesday graphic to share on an upcoming Wednesday.

P.S. The Fourth Annual Two Kinds of People Essay Contest is coming soon. Stay tuned.