I wanted to mention that tomorrow evening I will be attending a launch party for the FiND iT FREDERiCK Magazine website. Food, drink, mingling, speeches.
I know what you are thinking. It's the least Ty-like thing you could possibly imagine. And while that may not be 100% accurate, I would not blame any of my regular readers for that perception. I am indeed a bit Too XYZ for such events, normally. And I don't expect to be the life of this one, by any means.
Still, several factors play in to my decision to go to this event, and I thought I'd share them with you here, as I think they reveal something about me.
To begin with, I have contributed several pieces to the magazine, (henceforth referred to as FiF) over the last year or so. They have been kind and gracious to me, and have allowed me to build my portfolio. I won't do anything and everything to repay a debt, but I do believe that expressing appreciation and thanks to someone from whom you have received support is important. Even if one has to step out of their comfort zone a bit to do it.
Secondly, this is not a networking event. This is in fact a party. And while I am not the most party oriented person, it is much easier for me to take part in an affair that is designed specifically to be a celebration, and not designed to be and, "everybody sell your stuff now" sort of deal. I know you business minded, extroverts out there will say this launch party is the perfect time to mention my writing services, and they may come up. I will take a few business cards. But nobody will expect me to, and that makes the event more palatable to me.
And the people there will at least know of me. I have not yet met in person most of the staff at FiF, but they will be familiar with who I am, since I contribute so frequently. Knowing ahead of time that I expected helps me a lot.
Also, I will know one or two other people there, and I admit, that will make the entire situation much easier for me. I would feel far less comfortable with going if I knew from the start I would know nobody at all at the event.
And though I don't throw my card around like a ninja star to everyone in a room, I am not unaware of the potential benefits of going, outside of the support I owe FiF. For since I have made the effort to increase my social media presence over the last year, (Too XYZ, Brazen Careerist, Twitter) I have managed to pick up a few serviceable nuggets of advice out of the huge maelstrom of bullshit that is the world of social media self-promotional posturing. Subtle but real changes have taken place within my mind as regards to human interaction and personal presence. I'm anxious to see if what I have picked up has been of true benefit to me in that regard. A simple, casual party filled with other writers and patrons of the arts, (held at an arts institution with whom I communicate frequently on Twitter) should be an excellent crucible for that.
So, my goal for the evening is to enjoy myself, meet a few new people, and not feel pressured to be "on". To simply be out and about in support of a magazine, and be totally at ease with not shilling anything, but also in the hopes of meeting some new people. Check back in on Monday for a report on how it went!
It helps also that the event is being held at the Delaplaine Center for the Arts, a local arts organization with strong ties to the community. I don't get in to their events very often, but I strongly support their presence. (And have often retweeted them, much to their appreciation, on Twitter.) So I will also be supporting them
Showing posts with label advice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label advice. Show all posts
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Writer's Sex or Writer's Love?
Today over on her blog Comma N' Sentence, my friend and professional writer Laryssa Wirstiuk writes of the importance of being honest with oneself as a writer. Of the need for writers to be, as much as is possible, objective when it comes to reading their own works, and subsequently revising same. While she concedes that a 100% objective view of our own works is not possible, she stresses the need for some distance and perspective. And she recommends several things that I myself utilize when writing. (Especially the concept of finishing something and leaving it alone for a few months to make it fresher before I start the first revisions.)
As I mentioned in my comments on that post, distance is easier to gain when we have months to spare. That approach isn't feasible of course when we are on a rapidly approaching deadline. In those cases we must seek out the vital emotional distance and objectivity Laryssa mentioned in other ways.
Now to be sure sometimes it's easy to maintain an emotional distance from some things we have to write. As much as we'd all like to believe that the writer pours heart, soul and mind into every single piece they find themselves writing, it isn't so. Certain things we write are just not going to be artistic. The piece we get paid to right on the pig roast at the American Legion can be a well written, easy to read piece, but we are unlikley to have an emotional attachment to it. At such times a writer's focus is dedicated more to the craft and technique of writing, than it is to the art and emotion of same. Such aspects of writing are still very important, as they help us even when we want to be artistic in our writing. But they are not the focus of today's post.
So we set aside those pieces with which we have little to no emotional attachment as writers. It is the personal pieces, the ones that speak to some deep part of ourselves, the words we yearn to get out of our hearts for whatever reasons that are at issue. It is just this type of writing that can be sunk by emotional attachment.
"But how is it art if I am emotionally detached from what I write?? Where is the passion? Don't I need to feel something personally in order to for my important writing to connect with other people? What kind of soulless word mill are you anyway, Ty?"
If this is you, be calm. The answer is yes. You do need, and can use emotional attachment to your writing in order to make it better. But you must apply it at the correct time, in the proper way.
I have come to believe that writing things with which we feel a personal connection is like romance. The greatest chance of lasting fulfillment in both writing and romance lies in patience, timing, and proper perspective.
Most of you probably know what it is like when you first fall in love with someone. And if not, you know someone who has done it. A preoccupation with everything the beloved does, says, thinks, and wears. A desire to be with them as much as possible. A mental block which prevents the one in love from ever processing potential problems or flaws with the object of their affections.
Now let's be adults for a moment. What tends to happen when we make all of our decisions about commitment whilst in the midst of the swirling hormonal cocktail of what is now deemed "falling in love"? When we proceed to take that initial attraction we feel for someone and spend it like jet fuel on going on a few dates, having great sex, becoming exclusive, and talk of moving in with one another all within a few months? You know the answer; it tends to one way or another someday end in painful failure. And it does so because we have allowed an initial spark of interest and attraction to stand in for the energy and effort and time investment that is required to make a relationship grow, mature, and blossom into something more than glorified puppy love for adults.
Our relationships with the writings that mean the most to us are similar. That spark of inspiration, born out of a passion for an idea, a story, a piece of advice. The high we feel as we ponder the notion of people reading it. It can be a powerful feeling for the writer. If we are not careful it can drive us. But in reality, like the twitterpaitted new lover, it must be the other way around to work. The person must drive the feeling instead of the feeling driving the person.
Enjoy that spark of inspiration when it comes. Harness it. Write is down. Thank your muses for it, and allow some daydreams to enter your mind. But then you must slow everything down. Turn off the faucet of emotions. Step back, and make a plan. How will you write it? How long? Are there any deadlines, and if so, what are they? And most importantly, do not become attached to a first draft. Ever. Not once ever.
If you cannot find a way after the initial spark of inspiration to concentrate on basic technique, structure, and broad outlining without being in love with what you are writing (yet), you will never get anywhere. You will either fuss and nitpick your project into oblivion due to that deadly writer's disease of perfectionism (which is far worse than so called writer's block) or you will become so attached to every word you won't ever be able to edit it. Both mean you are not going to get anywhere with the piece. Shady vanity presses thrive on the latter group, and the world is littered with unedited, stream of consciousness pablum because of it.
You must shove each page (or paragraph) of a first draft out onto the screen like a mother bird shoves the baby birds out of the nest. The novel I am writing is currently at page 360, and I have not read page one since the day I wrote it about a year ago. The only thing I ever see of it is the first sentence for a millisecond when I call up the file to begin that day's writing session. And I won't be reading it with any sincerity until the revision phase begins in mid-summer. (After a three month break, thank you Laryssa.)
And it is the all powerful revision phase where the romance at last plays in. For once you have a draft and you begin to widdle away at the poor things, re-arrange chapters, delete scores of extra pages, all in an attempt to find what you need under all of the rubble, the emotional attachment to your work begins to return. You can think again about that spark and start to build everything around it. Again, don't be consumed by it because it is still early. But your first revision can afford the occasional return of that excitement. It is through your revisions that your soul will start speak, not through your draft. And the more revisions you go through, the more you can let your heart connect to your piece.
Remember our couple from earlier? What if instead of moving that fast, they allowed that initial spark of attraction to dazzle them for a while. But after a few days they exercise restraint. They email each other a few times over the week, and maybe a brief phone call on the weekend. They set up a single date, in public, and enjoy each others company, but opt not to delve headlong into the attraction that each of them is feeling. They communicate more. They ask questions. They experiment with doing different activities together. They get to actually know the person that lies behind the attraction. And as time goes on they discover that there was a reason for that spark, and they begin to fall in love.
Or not. They go on a few dates, don't go head long into passion, and realize once that spark has cooled a bit that aside from a few funny remarks at a party and an impressive body, the other person doesn't share much in common with them. That they would provide little hope of a lasting relationship. And the two part ways amicably. Just as you may do with something you have written during the revision process. You may find at that point that there isn't much to salvage. That the initial idea you had doesn't work, or no longer speaks to you. And you decide to file the draft away, and move on to other things.
Yes, that is a lot of work. Yes it takes practice and discernment. But to paraphrase A League of Their Own,
"It's supposed to be hard. If it wasn't everybody would do it."
I suppose in some places there is the writing equivalent to the one night stand or the hook-up. Maybe that is what comment sections are for on blogs or other websites. Maybe that is what message boards are. I can't say, as I try my best not to fire off anything in writing on any platform, no matter how tempting it may be. True, not all romances are going to be life-long partnerships, but that doesn't mean I have to be sleazy either. Even the shortest of relationships can include respect and class. That is what I try to put into all of my writings, no matter what the topic, length, or deadline. I hope you do the same.
Have you ever gotten too attached too early to something you were writing?
As I mentioned in my comments on that post, distance is easier to gain when we have months to spare. That approach isn't feasible of course when we are on a rapidly approaching deadline. In those cases we must seek out the vital emotional distance and objectivity Laryssa mentioned in other ways.
Now to be sure sometimes it's easy to maintain an emotional distance from some things we have to write. As much as we'd all like to believe that the writer pours heart, soul and mind into every single piece they find themselves writing, it isn't so. Certain things we write are just not going to be artistic. The piece we get paid to right on the pig roast at the American Legion can be a well written, easy to read piece, but we are unlikley to have an emotional attachment to it. At such times a writer's focus is dedicated more to the craft and technique of writing, than it is to the art and emotion of same. Such aspects of writing are still very important, as they help us even when we want to be artistic in our writing. But they are not the focus of today's post.
So we set aside those pieces with which we have little to no emotional attachment as writers. It is the personal pieces, the ones that speak to some deep part of ourselves, the words we yearn to get out of our hearts for whatever reasons that are at issue. It is just this type of writing that can be sunk by emotional attachment.
"But how is it art if I am emotionally detached from what I write?? Where is the passion? Don't I need to feel something personally in order to for my important writing to connect with other people? What kind of soulless word mill are you anyway, Ty?"
If this is you, be calm. The answer is yes. You do need, and can use emotional attachment to your writing in order to make it better. But you must apply it at the correct time, in the proper way.
I have come to believe that writing things with which we feel a personal connection is like romance. The greatest chance of lasting fulfillment in both writing and romance lies in patience, timing, and proper perspective.
Most of you probably know what it is like when you first fall in love with someone. And if not, you know someone who has done it. A preoccupation with everything the beloved does, says, thinks, and wears. A desire to be with them as much as possible. A mental block which prevents the one in love from ever processing potential problems or flaws with the object of their affections.
Now let's be adults for a moment. What tends to happen when we make all of our decisions about commitment whilst in the midst of the swirling hormonal cocktail of what is now deemed "falling in love"? When we proceed to take that initial attraction we feel for someone and spend it like jet fuel on going on a few dates, having great sex, becoming exclusive, and talk of moving in with one another all within a few months? You know the answer; it tends to one way or another someday end in painful failure. And it does so because we have allowed an initial spark of interest and attraction to stand in for the energy and effort and time investment that is required to make a relationship grow, mature, and blossom into something more than glorified puppy love for adults.
Our relationships with the writings that mean the most to us are similar. That spark of inspiration, born out of a passion for an idea, a story, a piece of advice. The high we feel as we ponder the notion of people reading it. It can be a powerful feeling for the writer. If we are not careful it can drive us. But in reality, like the twitterpaitted new lover, it must be the other way around to work. The person must drive the feeling instead of the feeling driving the person.
Enjoy that spark of inspiration when it comes. Harness it. Write is down. Thank your muses for it, and allow some daydreams to enter your mind. But then you must slow everything down. Turn off the faucet of emotions. Step back, and make a plan. How will you write it? How long? Are there any deadlines, and if so, what are they? And most importantly, do not become attached to a first draft. Ever. Not once ever.
If you cannot find a way after the initial spark of inspiration to concentrate on basic technique, structure, and broad outlining without being in love with what you are writing (yet), you will never get anywhere. You will either fuss and nitpick your project into oblivion due to that deadly writer's disease of perfectionism (which is far worse than so called writer's block) or you will become so attached to every word you won't ever be able to edit it. Both mean you are not going to get anywhere with the piece. Shady vanity presses thrive on the latter group, and the world is littered with unedited, stream of consciousness pablum because of it.
You must shove each page (or paragraph) of a first draft out onto the screen like a mother bird shoves the baby birds out of the nest. The novel I am writing is currently at page 360, and I have not read page one since the day I wrote it about a year ago. The only thing I ever see of it is the first sentence for a millisecond when I call up the file to begin that day's writing session. And I won't be reading it with any sincerity until the revision phase begins in mid-summer. (After a three month break, thank you Laryssa.)
And it is the all powerful revision phase where the romance at last plays in. For once you have a draft and you begin to widdle away at the poor things, re-arrange chapters, delete scores of extra pages, all in an attempt to find what you need under all of the rubble, the emotional attachment to your work begins to return. You can think again about that spark and start to build everything around it. Again, don't be consumed by it because it is still early. But your first revision can afford the occasional return of that excitement. It is through your revisions that your soul will start speak, not through your draft. And the more revisions you go through, the more you can let your heart connect to your piece.
Remember our couple from earlier? What if instead of moving that fast, they allowed that initial spark of attraction to dazzle them for a while. But after a few days they exercise restraint. They email each other a few times over the week, and maybe a brief phone call on the weekend. They set up a single date, in public, and enjoy each others company, but opt not to delve headlong into the attraction that each of them is feeling. They communicate more. They ask questions. They experiment with doing different activities together. They get to actually know the person that lies behind the attraction. And as time goes on they discover that there was a reason for that spark, and they begin to fall in love.
Or not. They go on a few dates, don't go head long into passion, and realize once that spark has cooled a bit that aside from a few funny remarks at a party and an impressive body, the other person doesn't share much in common with them. That they would provide little hope of a lasting relationship. And the two part ways amicably. Just as you may do with something you have written during the revision process. You may find at that point that there isn't much to salvage. That the initial idea you had doesn't work, or no longer speaks to you. And you decide to file the draft away, and move on to other things.
Yes, that is a lot of work. Yes it takes practice and discernment. But to paraphrase A League of Their Own,
"It's supposed to be hard. If it wasn't everybody would do it."
I suppose in some places there is the writing equivalent to the one night stand or the hook-up. Maybe that is what comment sections are for on blogs or other websites. Maybe that is what message boards are. I can't say, as I try my best not to fire off anything in writing on any platform, no matter how tempting it may be. True, not all romances are going to be life-long partnerships, but that doesn't mean I have to be sleazy either. Even the shortest of relationships can include respect and class. That is what I try to put into all of my writings, no matter what the topic, length, or deadline. I hope you do the same.
Have you ever gotten too attached too early to something you were writing?
Friday, February 4, 2011
Networking With Consultants: The Sound of One Hand Clapping
Online platforms have been good to me in regards to networking. I am not where I want to be in my career yet, but I get the impression that when I do get there, it will have a lot to do with the relationships I built starting online, as opposed to the ones in person.
Such platforms, despite their pitfalls are valuable to me because they eliminate all the bullshit. (And no matter what anybody tells you, 80% of traditional networking is nothing but bullshitting, end of story.) If I see a blog post I like, I leave a comment on it. It's self contained and obvious what the blog is about, and it is clear that the author is expecting people to approach them about it. They respond to my wonderfully specific initial contact, and in many cases, instant new network connections result. I can right away start opening up my highly inquisitive mind and ask all sort of questions about what they do, who they are, how they arrived at their opinion. Right to Final Jeopardy without the pointless cocktail party small talk for warm up.
But when it comes to learning about specific topics and discussing the nature of one's field, there are certain types that are very difficult for me to engage online or offline. One such group that often puts up barriers to my preferred method of exploring a new relationship are consultants. To be more specific, consultants in such categories as social media, public relations, marketing, and other mostly intangible fields.
What follows is a professional, not a personal assessment. It has nothing to do with how wonderful a person you may be if you are a consultant. But I do continue to hit a snag professionally whenever I try to get to know one. Try to network with them, as it were.
The difficulty I have with establishing a relationship with these people is that one can't really explore the nature of their work, aside from the basics. They can talk about previous accomplishments, and perhaps show me a portfolio of their work which I suppose is sort of okay. It tends to get boring after a while, though, as I like to talk to people not resumes. But many consultants passed a certain point won't discuss ideas or brainstorm with you because they "don't work for free." Given the nature of their work this barricade is often thrown up even in social situations that would otherwise be unconnected with career advancement. It is an understandable but very unfortunate defense mechanism that consultants throw up, which tends to discourage people like me.
And therein lies the problem with networking, or sometimes even socializing with consultants. Unlike other occupations, they have to place a limit on how many questions they can answer about what they do. What is worse, they have to place a serious cap on answering questions pertaining to what they would do in any given situation. And that type of conversational limitation can really dump cool water on a developing idea exchange with me, because I love asking people, "if this happened, how would you handle it in your position?"
Not to mention it tends to sound the slightest bit smug when somebody says, "I can't offer anymore on that unless you pay me," during a conversation. Fair as it may be to one's personal bottom line, taking this position is going to sound unfriendly and rude to a lot of people.
I'll illustrate my frustrations.
Let's say I encounter a nature photographer on Twitter. I can ask her what sort of camera she uses. The type of photos she takes. She can actually show me some of her pictures. I can ask her, without feeling under threat of taking food out of her mouth, "I always have a hard time taking pictures of moving objects, what shutter speed do you suggest?" Matters of her art, her science skills, how she picks subjects, what she would do in that tasty hypothetical situation I mentioned. The answers to these questions often determine how interested I am in establishing a relationship. And unless she has other reasons, she is perfectly at liberty to answer all of them. Because she is paid to take photographs, not to talk about photography. Ergo, by talking about what she does, and what she can do, she isn't robbing herself. She and I can feel free to brainstorm about taking pictures. (And if she reciprocates, I can brainstorm with her about, say, writing a novel.)
Ask that same set of questions to an internet marketing consultant. The conversation would be much shorter. Because they are paid to brainstorm. They make money by assessing a situation and coming up with solutions. The exploration of photography I had with the photographer would be something for which I would have to be charged by the hour with the marketing consultant. That is because the exploration of the ideas is the very thing for which the consultant gets paid. And whether I opt to pay the consultant for her hour's worth of suggestions and ideas, or if I opt to bid them good day and discontinue the conversation, I'm bound to feel let down by the whole experience.
"You'd never ask your photography friend to take pictures for your magazine for free would you? So why the hell should I as a consultant offer my services for free? Answer me that, Mr. XYZ Guy."
Okay, here is your answer. No, I wouldn't ask a photographer to take pictures for free. And I wouldn't expect a consultant to work for free either. The issue isn't the legitimacy of charging people. I could charge people for the right to shake my hand. There is nothing stopping me. But it would certainly put a damper on my social life.
The difference between the photographer and the consultant is I am free to explore the expertise of the photographer through the most basic of human functions; by speaking to them. And by being directly exposed to the artistry, the acumen, the aspirations and advice of the photographer, even if I don't have a prayer of matching her in skill and accomplishment, I am improved. Inspired. With a consultant, I am warned I may be on the clock. Makes it tricky.
Look, many consultants do great work. Like any profession, kind, generous, helpful, brilliant people consult for a living. And they naturally have passions outside of their chosen field. People are more than what they do for a living. God knows I shout that truth every chance I get. But in professional as opposed to the personal arena, where our toehold is often established through conversation about our contributions and why we make them, I think consultants are at a bit of a disadvantage. They are when it comes tome, anyway.
Maybe if they eased up somewhat on what they will and won't talk about off of the clock. In order to network effectively they may have to actually give away some of their products and services for free during the course of regular conversation. After all, to an extent even the photographer does so. I may not own the photo, but once I see it, it's in my mind and in my heart wherever I go. If photographers attempted to charge for every time that happened, they'd be out of business.
Such platforms, despite their pitfalls are valuable to me because they eliminate all the bullshit. (And no matter what anybody tells you, 80% of traditional networking is nothing but bullshitting, end of story.) If I see a blog post I like, I leave a comment on it. It's self contained and obvious what the blog is about, and it is clear that the author is expecting people to approach them about it. They respond to my wonderfully specific initial contact, and in many cases, instant new network connections result. I can right away start opening up my highly inquisitive mind and ask all sort of questions about what they do, who they are, how they arrived at their opinion. Right to Final Jeopardy without the pointless cocktail party small talk for warm up.
But when it comes to learning about specific topics and discussing the nature of one's field, there are certain types that are very difficult for me to engage online or offline. One such group that often puts up barriers to my preferred method of exploring a new relationship are consultants. To be more specific, consultants in such categories as social media, public relations, marketing, and other mostly intangible fields.
What follows is a professional, not a personal assessment. It has nothing to do with how wonderful a person you may be if you are a consultant. But I do continue to hit a snag professionally whenever I try to get to know one. Try to network with them, as it were.
The difficulty I have with establishing a relationship with these people is that one can't really explore the nature of their work, aside from the basics. They can talk about previous accomplishments, and perhaps show me a portfolio of their work which I suppose is sort of okay. It tends to get boring after a while, though, as I like to talk to people not resumes. But many consultants passed a certain point won't discuss ideas or brainstorm with you because they "don't work for free." Given the nature of their work this barricade is often thrown up even in social situations that would otherwise be unconnected with career advancement. It is an understandable but very unfortunate defense mechanism that consultants throw up, which tends to discourage people like me.
And therein lies the problem with networking, or sometimes even socializing with consultants. Unlike other occupations, they have to place a limit on how many questions they can answer about what they do. What is worse, they have to place a serious cap on answering questions pertaining to what they would do in any given situation. And that type of conversational limitation can really dump cool water on a developing idea exchange with me, because I love asking people, "if this happened, how would you handle it in your position?"
Not to mention it tends to sound the slightest bit smug when somebody says, "I can't offer anymore on that unless you pay me," during a conversation. Fair as it may be to one's personal bottom line, taking this position is going to sound unfriendly and rude to a lot of people.
I'll illustrate my frustrations.
Let's say I encounter a nature photographer on Twitter. I can ask her what sort of camera she uses. The type of photos she takes. She can actually show me some of her pictures. I can ask her, without feeling under threat of taking food out of her mouth, "I always have a hard time taking pictures of moving objects, what shutter speed do you suggest?" Matters of her art, her science skills, how she picks subjects, what she would do in that tasty hypothetical situation I mentioned. The answers to these questions often determine how interested I am in establishing a relationship. And unless she has other reasons, she is perfectly at liberty to answer all of them. Because she is paid to take photographs, not to talk about photography. Ergo, by talking about what she does, and what she can do, she isn't robbing herself. She and I can feel free to brainstorm about taking pictures. (And if she reciprocates, I can brainstorm with her about, say, writing a novel.)
Ask that same set of questions to an internet marketing consultant. The conversation would be much shorter. Because they are paid to brainstorm. They make money by assessing a situation and coming up with solutions. The exploration of photography I had with the photographer would be something for which I would have to be charged by the hour with the marketing consultant. That is because the exploration of the ideas is the very thing for which the consultant gets paid. And whether I opt to pay the consultant for her hour's worth of suggestions and ideas, or if I opt to bid them good day and discontinue the conversation, I'm bound to feel let down by the whole experience.
"You'd never ask your photography friend to take pictures for your magazine for free would you? So why the hell should I as a consultant offer my services for free? Answer me that, Mr. XYZ Guy."
Okay, here is your answer. No, I wouldn't ask a photographer to take pictures for free. And I wouldn't expect a consultant to work for free either. The issue isn't the legitimacy of charging people. I could charge people for the right to shake my hand. There is nothing stopping me. But it would certainly put a damper on my social life.
The difference between the photographer and the consultant is I am free to explore the expertise of the photographer through the most basic of human functions; by speaking to them. And by being directly exposed to the artistry, the acumen, the aspirations and advice of the photographer, even if I don't have a prayer of matching her in skill and accomplishment, I am improved. Inspired. With a consultant, I am warned I may be on the clock. Makes it tricky.
Look, many consultants do great work. Like any profession, kind, generous, helpful, brilliant people consult for a living. And they naturally have passions outside of their chosen field. People are more than what they do for a living. God knows I shout that truth every chance I get. But in professional as opposed to the personal arena, where our toehold is often established through conversation about our contributions and why we make them, I think consultants are at a bit of a disadvantage. They are when it comes tome, anyway.
Maybe if they eased up somewhat on what they will and won't talk about off of the clock. In order to network effectively they may have to actually give away some of their products and services for free during the course of regular conversation. After all, to an extent even the photographer does so. I may not own the photo, but once I see it, it's in my mind and in my heart wherever I go. If photographers attempted to charge for every time that happened, they'd be out of business.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Be Interesting, But Allow Others to Be So Too: By Laryssa Wirstiuk
I like to listen to stories. If you can tell me a captivating story, I will probably want to be your friend. However, listening for long periods of time can be exhausting.
Very few people understand the art of conversation. Have you ever felt completely drained by a chatty, self-absorbed storyteller? These people don’t know how to ask questions - they just know how to talk.
I also love to tell stories, but I'm better at sharing with people who make me feel comfortable or seem genuinely interested in what I have to say.
Otherwise, I don't open up easily. If my companion is dominating the “conversation”, I shy away. Trying to fight for speaking rights is almost as tiring as having to listen to a non-stop talker, and it’s seldom worth the effort.
So, how can you and I have better conversations? Find a reason to be genuinely interested in the other person, even if you don't think you share anything in common.
If you dig deeply enough, you can find something interesting about anyone. Make discovering another person a game you play with yourself. Dig until you find something interesting, and you will ultimately gain more respect for the other person.
Take turns. Keep track of how long you have been talking. Limit yourself to your most compelling stories. Before you open your mouth, ask yourself - if I were the other person, would I really want to hear this story? Pick and choose what you share. If you share only the best stories, the other person will most likely find you more interesting and ask you questions too.
Ask follow-up questions. If you struggle with this, pretend you’re a journalist for the New York Times who has been assigned a very important story. You want to impress your editors. What questions can you ask your subject to extract the most interesting information?
Try to avoid hot-button issues like politics and religion, unless you're prepared for conflict. Sure, these topics can ignite a stale conversation, but you should be ready to face the consequences.
Please, for my sake and for everyone's sake: be self aware. We all want to share, to feel like our presence is acknowledged. If you do catch yourself talking excessively about yourself, make a joke about it.
Laryssa Wirstiuk is a writer and teacher in New Jersey. Her recently revamped blog is Comma 'n Sentence.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Nothing to Fear But....Indecision Itself?
Many scholars believe that Hamlet's fatal flaw was being indecisive. I have never agreed, and probably never will. An interesting discussion, but not germane to this blog's content.
I, however, am germane to this blog's content, and I have no problem admiting that sometimes I am indecisive. That perhaps being so has stagnated my life at times.
It isn't out of laziness. It is out of over analyzing the options I have. And perhaps sometimes it is the fear of making the wrong choice that leads me to studying something into oblivion. (I have made some doozies in my time, and each time I become more determined to not do it again.) The bigger the decision, the greater the chance of my indecision.)
Here is an interesting post I cam across today, via Brazen Careerist. It sums up well the sometimes paralyzing nature of over thinking our decisions. I recommend it for those who, like me, sometimes find themselves Too XYZ to make a decision.
I, however, am germane to this blog's content, and I have no problem admiting that sometimes I am indecisive. That perhaps being so has stagnated my life at times.
It isn't out of laziness. It is out of over analyzing the options I have. And perhaps sometimes it is the fear of making the wrong choice that leads me to studying something into oblivion. (I have made some doozies in my time, and each time I become more determined to not do it again.) The bigger the decision, the greater the chance of my indecision.)
Here is an interesting post I cam across today, via Brazen Careerist. It sums up well the sometimes paralyzing nature of over thinking our decisions. I recommend it for those who, like me, sometimes find themselves Too XYZ to make a decision.
Friday, February 19, 2010
When Honesty Is NOT the Best Policy
Got tact? If not get some. Now.
You are going to run into a lot of people that offend you. And I don’t mean enemies. I am talking about colleagues or even those who supposedly are your friends.
They will consistently make dismissive or insulting comments about you, or about something important to you. You will feel hurt by it, or at least irritated. But then they will guilt you into pretending you are not hurt, or that you shouldn’t be. These people will try to convince you that you have no right to be offended.
They’ll say:
“Hey, I tell it like it is. No bullshit with me. I call it exactly as I see it, and people who can’t handle that just need to stay away from me and get out of my way. Laughing at yourself is good for the soul, learn to do it.”
Translation: “I’m too bitchy to summon up the energy it takes to be civil to people, too lazy to try to understand something different, and too insecure in myself and my beliefs to just stay silent on the subject.”
Also, have you ever noticed that the people who are most proud of being able to “tell it like it is” are the very ones who are the most offended when you tell them how it is?
Don’t be this person. There is nothing noble in being frank to that degree. Sure, it may make you a few fast friends that share your propensity to make yourself the center of the known universe, but the rest of humanity will at best tolerate you, and more than likely despise you. As well they should. You should be building relationships, which is a two way street, not broadcasting that you are small minded and petty, and waiting for those that don’t mind it to show up at your doorstep.
Say whatever you want to your spouse, or within the confines of your home or your closest circle of friends. But once you step out into the actual planet Earth, you are going to be dealing with literally millions of different ways to perceive this one life we have. That life is far too short to put people off by not censoring anything you say.
We are not talking about matters of conscience here. This isn’t about denying your religion, or refusing to stand against a moral wrong that you feel you have the power to bring to light. But ask yourself if telling someone that they always wear ugly sweaters, or that their stories are boring, or their boyfriend has bad teeth really rise to the level of high morality. Does your faith in God truly require you to make these sort of comments?
In the end, ask yourself if anything positive is coming out of something you are saying to another person. If you are not trying to save their life, or make them feel better about something, chances are your insults are simply expressions of fear disguised as honesty designed to aggrandize yourself. Do the world a favor and refrain.
And that’s me telling it like it is.
You are going to run into a lot of people that offend you. And I don’t mean enemies. I am talking about colleagues or even those who supposedly are your friends.
They will consistently make dismissive or insulting comments about you, or about something important to you. You will feel hurt by it, or at least irritated. But then they will guilt you into pretending you are not hurt, or that you shouldn’t be. These people will try to convince you that you have no right to be offended.
They’ll say:
“Hey, I tell it like it is. No bullshit with me. I call it exactly as I see it, and people who can’t handle that just need to stay away from me and get out of my way. Laughing at yourself is good for the soul, learn to do it.”
Translation: “I’m too bitchy to summon up the energy it takes to be civil to people, too lazy to try to understand something different, and too insecure in myself and my beliefs to just stay silent on the subject.”
Also, have you ever noticed that the people who are most proud of being able to “tell it like it is” are the very ones who are the most offended when you tell them how it is?
Don’t be this person. There is nothing noble in being frank to that degree. Sure, it may make you a few fast friends that share your propensity to make yourself the center of the known universe, but the rest of humanity will at best tolerate you, and more than likely despise you. As well they should. You should be building relationships, which is a two way street, not broadcasting that you are small minded and petty, and waiting for those that don’t mind it to show up at your doorstep.
Say whatever you want to your spouse, or within the confines of your home or your closest circle of friends. But once you step out into the actual planet Earth, you are going to be dealing with literally millions of different ways to perceive this one life we have. That life is far too short to put people off by not censoring anything you say.
We are not talking about matters of conscience here. This isn’t about denying your religion, or refusing to stand against a moral wrong that you feel you have the power to bring to light. But ask yourself if telling someone that they always wear ugly sweaters, or that their stories are boring, or their boyfriend has bad teeth really rise to the level of high morality. Does your faith in God truly require you to make these sort of comments?
In the end, ask yourself if anything positive is coming out of something you are saying to another person. If you are not trying to save their life, or make them feel better about something, chances are your insults are simply expressions of fear disguised as honesty designed to aggrandize yourself. Do the world a favor and refrain.
And that’s me telling it like it is.
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