Words To Live By

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2011-08-04T15:25:00.000-07:00

Dear readers,

Words To Live By is moving to a new blog host—WordPress—as part of The Writing Life. Please join me on my exciting new adventure! In case you want to find a previous post, here is a list of everything I have written so far.

Blog Archive

Katie Couric's Words to Live By

2011-07-21T17:19:00.000-07:00

I seem to be reading a lot of inspirational books lately. I guess I need them. The most recent one is The Best Advice I Ever Got: Lessons From Extraordinary Lives by Katie Couric, and I read it straight through without stopping. The book is a compilation of essays by the author and many celebrities on what they have learned in the course of their lives. The contributors, who make up the Who's Who of Everything, include:

Authors (Gail Collins, Anna Quindlen, Arianna Huffington, Gloria Steinem)
Comedians (Chelsea Handler, Steve Martin, Whoopi Goldberg, Bill Cosby)
Actors (Helen Mirren, Morgan Freeman, Meryl Streep)
Politicians (Michael Bloomberg, Bill Clinton, Jimmy Carter, Condoleezza Rice)
TV personalities (Ellen DeGeneres, Larry King, Dr. Phil McGraw, Dr. Mehmet Oz)
Athletes (Apolo Ohno, Chris Evert, Michelle Kwan)
Musicians (Wynton Marsalis)
Military professionals (Colin Powell, General Ray Odierno)
Journalists (Christiane Amanpour, Barbara Walters, Thomas Friedman, Maria Shriver)

That list doesn't begin to cover the people who shared their experiences with Ms. Couric, and thus with us. Some entries were pages long; others, mere paragraphs. But the advice these people gave was amazing—so amazing, I found myself taking notes. I knew I would forget, and I didn't want these snippets of wisdom to slip away. Here are a few of my favorites:

Courage is the ultimate career move.
Sometimes, hard work and good timing intersect. Be ready.
Honor your soul by listening to its clean, clear voice.
Possess absolute, unbending, unimpeachable integrity.
Try to recognize opportunities in disguise. Be lucky.
Life is not so much about what you accomplish as what you overcome.
This is not a dress rehearsal. This is your life—your one shot.
As human beings, we are all works in progress.
You have the power to change your world.
Live your life focusing on what you can do rather than what you can't do.
If you don't like the path you're on, get off.
Avoid people who are not genuine and whose energy is toxic.
Life is made up of moments. Live them. Find the joy.
Dare to be happy.

This little book is a treasure. Just the few bullet points above are worth their weight in gold. Thank you, Katie Couric, for giving all of us these words to live by.

A Book to Treasure

2011-07-08T06:43:00.000-07:00

A friend gave my daughter a book as a gift. My daughter lent it to me. I bought it for my sister, who will probably pass it around her friends and buy one for someone special. As a reader, I am so enchanted with the book, I am going to buy a copy for myself. As an author, of course, I wish I'd written it. As a publisher, I can't wait to show it to my graphic designer. As a teacher, I will use it demonstrate all the marvelous little touches. That's how books "go viral."

The book is Lessons from Oz by Julienne La Fleur (Is that a gorgeous name or what?) This is the blurb from the back cover: "Lessons from Oz recaptures the magic of the classic film Wizard of Oz while pondering life and illuminating over 35 lessons that we, as grown-ups, tend to forget. some are whimsical, some are serious, and might make you want to go skipping."

What is so captivating about Lessons from Oz? First of all, it's beautifully and cleverly designed. I could rhapsodize about the type style, printing, and paper (really!). I will definitely use it with my clients as an example of a well-thought-out concept; it's brilliant. And, of course, there is the writing—funny, inspirational, insightful.

In case you want to own your own copy, go to lessonsfromoz.com or amazon.com (I have no vested interest ... I just love this book!)

Why hire a V.A.?

2011-07-06T15:33:00.000-07:00

First, what is a V.A.? The letters stand for virtual assistant, which is a bit of misnomer, since she (usually a she) is a real person. Maybe a V.A. is considered "virtual" because you hire her on line and may never meet her in the flesh.

Second, what does a V.A. do? She does whatever you need done that her skills qualify her to do. Once upon a time she was called an administrative assistant and did the things secretaries did, but as life has become more technologically advanced, V.A.s have too. Most of them are far more computer and Web savvy than I am.

Why do you need a V.A.? Well, if you are a "solo-preneur" (one-man/woman band) wearing all the hats in your little business, it's probably because you're meeting yourself coming and going. You may be tearing out your hair from finding the business, managing the business, marketing the business, and, in between, doing whatever you are in business to do. Maybe you're tired. I'm tired just writing that.

I have struggled along for 20+ years trying to do it all. It hardly bears mentioning that in the beginning I was 20 years younger. The Internet, my Website, and social networking have been added to the above responsibilities. My marketing is actually generating leads, so I have many more people to respond to than I had in the past. I'm busy, busy, busy; and, quite frankly, I need help! Enter my V.A. (I love her!)

What's the lesson here? I think it is don't fritter away your creative energies doing things someone else can do a whole lot better. Do what you do best, and find a wonderful V.A. to do what you don't do so well. Everybody wins, especially your clients.

Appreciating the St. Louis Police

2011-06-03T09:38:00.001-07:00

For someone who has had no contact with the police in the past, suddenly, I have become acquainted with several officers in two different precincts. I'll spare you the details except to say that when I've needed them, they have been there for me.

I recently had occasion to visit the St. Louis Police Department on a holiday weekend. There were three detectives on duty, and they gathered around to talk to me and give me (much-needed) advice. I was there on serious business, but if such a visit can be enlightening and entertaining, this one was. I felt as if I had stepped into a Michael Connelly police novel.

What did I learn? Police officers came in all sizes, ages, and races. They are concerned and compassionate. They get involved, even with small crimes. They are real, honest, and funny. If anything positive can come out of a truly negative experience, it did in this case. I came away with an up-close-and-personal view of the often maligned city police department.

My guess is they probably don't get a lot of thank you notes. This is definitely one.

Don't Talk to Strangers

2011-05-30T09:14:00.000-07:00

Of life's lessons, this is one I wish I hadn't learned. I grew up in the 50s—in other words, safer times. You could walk to school, go out at night, ask strangers for help. We were not cautious. Life was good. Times have changed.

I gave a stranded stranger a ride. She had a gazillion packages and a box of pampers. It was raining. Her car broke down, she said. Could I give her a lift? Otherwise, she would have to walk. Sure, I said and drove her into the city.

The next day Bank of America called to tell me there was suspicious activity on my debit card. The lady had stolen it, and my driver's license, and gone on a spending spree. I still haven't figured out how she did it. I called the local police who told me to call the St. Louis Police who told me I had to file a police report.

The detective was unbelievably nice. Actually, all three of them were. It seems I was robbed by a professional who had a very long record, a habit to support, a parole violation, and a lot of people looking for her.

I filed my report, shook the detective's hand, and left with this advice: Do not, EVER, give a stranger a ride. I am passing that wisdom along to you.

How to feel grateful: Think about Joplin

2011-05-23T15:06:00.000-07:00

I live in Missouri, the heart of the Midwest. It seems to me that every other minute a rash of severe thunderstorms hits this state, spawns tornadoes, drops golf-ball-size hail, and just generally wreaks destruction. I spend a lot of time watching local news to keep track of the weather. On more than one occasion, I have hightailed it for the bathroom with a flashlight, transistor radio, and book and sat on the floor for a long time.

I watch the news in horror, feeling that at any moment I could turn into Dorothy and be whisked away to some place I don't want to go. Yet, scary as it is, it all seemed a little surreal ... until last night.

According to the National Weather Service, the tornado that killed 116 people in Joplin, Missouri, was the single deadliest twister in this country since 1953, with winds estimated at 198 miles per hour. Joplin is 247 miles from St. Louis. That really isn't very far. These people are fellow Missourians, neighbors, potential friends.

A town leveled and 116 people killed. What more could it possibly take to feel grateful every single day?

Pain is Relative

2011-04-23T13:19:00.000-07:00

I attended my first aquatic therapy session last week, and it was not at all what I expected. The pool was very small. It wasn't a class but rather a small group of people, with one physical therapist for every one or two people. How hard we exercised or on which side of the pool depended on our levels of ability, flexibility, or pain. I was feeling well, so I got a great workout and left feeling refreshed.

What was memorable about the hour in the water was not how well I felt but how others around me were feeling. Two people caught my attention—a middle-aged man and young woman. They were both in a great deal of pain. In fact, they said so.

I recognized the tight facial expressions and stiff posture, and my heart went out to these two strangers. That acerbic saying, "I feel your pain," took on new meaning. But even more meaningful to me was the realization that everything is relative, especially pain.

A nagging headache may not be a migraine, but it hurts nonetheless. People tolerate pain differently. Some can take a lot; others not so much. Some days are pretty good; some are terrible. Some people wear pain on the faces; others hide it well. Out in the world, most of us aren't as open as we may be in the safety of a warm-water, therapeutic setting.

We encounter people every day—those we know and strangers—and we have no idea what they are feeling inside. It's worth remembering that it might be pain.

Social Networking Really Works

2011-04-15T09:45:00.000-07:00

I have a new friend—not only a Facebook friend but an actual, talk-to-on-the-phone friend. Her name is Grace Bower, and she lives in New Zealand. It's not every day that I answer the phone and hear a totally unfamiliar accent—a little like Australia or South Africa yet completely different.

Grace read a comment on Facebook that mentioned something I had written. She looked up my Website and called me. Amazing! I had written about a book called Life is a Verb by Patti Digh. Patti responded (who knew?), obviously having better Google Alerts than I do. So, now we are a circle, Grace, Patti, and I.

I have never actually talked to Patti, though I want to buy her book for everyone I know. But I have talked to Grace, who is caring, considerate, and compassionate. I have a feeling many people feel that way about her.

That's what social networking is all about: reaching out, connecting, engaging. It's not just a theory; it's the real thing. You never know when a new friend is going to show up.

THINK before you hit "publish"

2011-04-13T19:54:00.000-07:00

Being a savvy Internet user, I know that Feedburner "provides custom RSS feeds and management tools to bloggers, podcasters, and other web-based content publishers." (I found that definition on Wikipedia) This is a very good thing if one wants to reach a vast readership, which I do. So, after much trial and error, I finally figured out how to use Feedburner to forward my blogs to various Websites, including Facebook, Twitter, Amazon, and BlogCatalog.

This means millions of potential readers—500 million on Facebook alone! Is that fantastic or what? Well, on one hand, it is every blogger's dream to have such a huge audience. But on the other hand, consider "or what."

Let's say something is driving me crazy—the way Congress is behaving, perhaps. That is definitely one of my favorite subjects for a rant. So, I write a scathing post, check the spelling and punctuation, and hit the publish button. Immediately, millions upon millions of people will know I am not happy with Congress right now. But what exactly did I say?

I view the blog post and must admit I came on a little strong. Maybe I could soften it a bit. Well, no, I can't. It's too late to rethink my pearls of wisdom when they are instantaneously soaring through cyberspace. They are out there, published, and very public.

Whoops. Maybe I should put a little note to self on my computer. It will simply ask "Do you really want 500 million people to read this?" No? Then, do not under any circumstances hit the publish button!

Measuring Success by the Numbers

2011-04-06T19:46:00.000-07:00

This was the last class of the course I teach on how to write, publish, and promote a nonfiction book. We had a speaker, a discussion about marketing, a graduation party, and diplomas (customized bookmarks)—a tradition I steadfastly adhere to every semester.

It was a small class—only eight people—but most of them showed up every week. Only one person dropped out. Some never wrote a word, but two have nearly finished their proposals. I was feeling a bit disheartened until I realized that two out of eight equals 25 percent of the class!

I have always maintained that if I could influence even one student, I would consider a class a success. That means I achieved 200 percent of my goal. It doesn't take a math genius to see that as a very positive outcome.

Request for Rebuttal

2011-04-03T14:52:00.000-07:00

OK, I agree: that last post on loss was pretty much a downer. I didn't mean it to be. I was just musing about life, and that's what popped up on the radar screen ... well, the computer screen, actually. My sister has pointed out to me that when most people have a thought, it's just a thought; when I have a thought, it becomes a blog post. What I tend to forget is that, if it is a blog post, it will show up on Facebook.

That's fine if what I write is entertaining or educational or erudite. Not so fine if it's going to make you run for the bottle of Prozak. So, here is something positive for those of you who are checking Facebook or LinkedIn or Twitter or Amazon this evening.

In case you thought John Wayne was just a cowboy who didn't say much, here is something he said that may surprise you: "Tomorrow is the most important thing in life. Comes into us at midnight very clean. It's perfect when it arrives and puts itself in our hands. It hopes we've learned something from yesterday."

Wow. I love that!

Loss: the Absence of What Used to Be

2011-04-02T14:47:00.000-07:00

Loss is a sneaky business. Sometimes, it’s so subtle we don’t even realize something is gone. We’re sad or irritable or forgetful, but can’t quite pinpoint the cause. Other times, we are hit in the head with something so obvious, it feels like we’ve been in a train wreck.

We know what loss is, of course. We have something, and then we don’t have it—a love affair, a marriage, a promotion or a job, a parent, wealth, a dream. We had it; we lost it. What’s left is a hole where it used to be.

Years ago, one of my favorite authors, Judith Viorst, wrote a book called Necessary Losses. It was psychoanalytic in nature, which made my head spin. Why, I wondered, are losses “necessary?” Personally, I would have preferred them to be optional.

Buddha may have asked the same questions when he set out on his quest for enlightenment. Why must we lose everything that matters to us—love, youth, health, beauty, security, even life? His answer: impermanence. Everything in life is in flux, constantly changing, ephemeral. In other words, nothing lasts.

Frankly, I don’t find that very comforting thought. Yet, it is so obviously true. I can’t think of anything that stays the same even from one moment to the next. When I am able to sit very still for even a short time, I become aware of the subtle changes taking place all around me. Even my thoughts come and go, capturing my attention, then dissolving—a perfect example of impermanence.

I have become my mother!

2011-03-13T18:37:00.000-07:00

I swore it would never happen, but the inevitable has been sneaking up on me for years. For one thing, I see her in the mirror. The first few times I gasped out loud, but I'm getting used to it. The funny thing is I never looked like her when I was younger. Maybe all those genes were just waiting to let loose all at once. I know I sound like her, at least her inflections and little sayings. Every once in a while one of my daughters will catch me in a gesture and say, "Oh, that was such a grandma face!"

Some habits are engrained—taught, trained, repeated. As children, we learn them; as adolescents, we fight them; as grownups, we adopt them. So many things I do are because my mother either did them or drilled the behaviors into me. I see those same traits and expressions in my own daughters.

Today, I was particularly aware of how much I am like my mother. It is Sunday. I had no particular plans except to work (Sunday ... Tuesday ... Friday ... that's what I do). But first, I did the morning ritual: washed my face, brushed my teeth, made coffee, and drank it while I read a mystery. Then, I went into high gear, from shower to serious hair and make-up to straightening up my condo. My outfit, selected for comfort, was coordinated; so was my jewelry.

Here is the irony. I wasn't going anywhere. I never left the house; no one dropped by. The only person who even knew I went through all that effort was yours truly. I was ready for company or the mailman or anyone. But that really wasn't the point. My mother was always immaculately groomed and coordinated, earrings to toenails. That's what I remember most vividly. That's what I admired. That's what I loved about her.

My life, my resposibility

2011-03-03T06:14:00.000-08:00

I relearned an old lesson today. This has happened in the past, but every time I learn it, I am surprised. It is as if I had never considered this idea before. Yet, it is so obvious, so fundamentally true, I am always amazed I have forgotten it.

I am responsible for my life. That's it, in a nutshell. I am the captain of my tiny vessel floating around in the sea of life. I am in charge of the route I choose, the decisions I make, my well being, my happiness, my responses, my actions. Everything.

That's a simple but powerful thought. In one way, it's scary; in another, it is liberating. As an adult, I have choices. But with choices comes responsibility.

This came home to me in two ways yesterday. The first was disturbing. I was talking to a doctor. When I complained that I was unable to reach him by phone or get straight answers to some important questions, he explained that he had thousands of patients of which I was only one. I guess I indicated that I really didn't care about the thousands of patients. He became irritated. He said, "This is your illness, not mine. It's your responsibility to follow up, not mine. You are responsible for your medical care." No mistaking that message!

Later, I was reading a book on the power of focus by Leo Babauta, and suddenly there were those words again in an entirely different context. "You are responsible for your life." I read it again. I fully expected to see a sky-writing plane overhead with the same words trailing behind it.

Funny that I have to keep relearning the same lesson again and again. I swear I'll remember it this time. Maybe I should write it on my hand in indelible ink.

Invisible Illnesses

2011-01-30T16:23:00.000-08:00

We tend to think of disabilities as something we can see. If a person is in a wheelchair or has a seeing-eye dog, we can immediately identify the nature of his or her disability. But not all conditions are so obvious. Diabetes, depression, degenerative disc disease, lupus, chronic fatigue syndrome, high blood pressure, and bipolar disorder are not visible.

People may be candid about their health issues, or they may not wish to share what they consider private. The problem with masquerading as a healthy person is that most such problems create limitations. If the underlying condition is a secret, it's hard to explain why some activities are off limits.

There is no easy answer to the question of whether to be open or discrete. Sad to say, many illnesses are still stigmatized, which makes the choice all the more difficult.

If there is a lesson to be learned here, it is that you have no idea what someone else is dealing with in terms of health. It could be anything from a headache to heart disease. My advice is assume it's something, and behave compassionately.

Rules to live by: Learn about it; write about it

2011-01-17T08:52:00.000-08:00

I am the first to admit my marketing has been somewhat scattershot up till now. Therefore, no one was more surprised than I that something was working. People were finding me on the Web. Actually Google and Yahoo! were finding me, which is the name of the game. Still, I knew I wasn’t planning; I was shooting from the hip. My resolution for 2011 was to meticulously plan my Web marketing for the year.

I love charts; so I made a chart. Down the side were the months; across the top were themes and communications vehicles: Website, e-zine, blogs, articles, major social networking sites, and podcasts. Setting up the chart was a breeze; filling it in was not. How was it that the social media expert I heard last month had a knock-your-socks-off annual plan, not for only one business but for three?

There were so many unknowns. Would I be able to get the guest bloggers I wanted to write for me? Did I know enough to adequately cover the material I wanted to write myself? Did I have meaningful themes to fill year’s worth of ezines, blogs, and all the rest? I did not have definitive answers to these questions.

My entire career as a writer is built on a foundation of research. Learn about it; then, write about it. Not only would writing all of this material require research, constructing the marketing plan would, as well.

That’s what I am doing now—reading, learning, absorbing, planning, writing. Actually, that’s pretty much what I was doing before … without the chart.

Those were the days, my friend. Those were the days.

2011-01-14T12:37:00.000-08:00

I reunited with three old friends yesterday and today—not old as in age but as in how many years we have known each other. We were young when we met or at least much younger than we are now. But time stopped as our conversations slipped into the same intimacy and candor we had shared thirty or forty years ago. It sounds like a cliche to say it was as if no time had passed since we were last together, but that really is the way it felt. Effortless. Relaxed. Real.

Of course, we asked about kids and work and health. Of course, we talked about mutual friends and dredged up half-forgotten names. Remember ______? Have you heard from ______? Whatever happened to ______? And, of course, we pulled out our calendars and made dates.

If we didn't say those were the best of times, we surely thought it. It's not that these are not good times; it is that those times were special. As names surfaced in our conversations, we reminisced about how giving people were in those days. It seemed everyone we knew was willing to share and help and open doors. These three old friends epitomized that generosity of spirit.

Time passes. Some things change. Fortunately, though, some things don't change at all, like the spark of timeless friendships. It can be rekindled in an instant.

Living with Change

2011-01-11T07:53:00.000-08:00

Change is unsettling no matter how it occurs. If it happens gradually, we think we are prepared. When it comes out of the blue our lives may be turned upside down. All change involves loss, even when it means a promotion or marriage or a new baby. To gain the new, we lose the old, whatever it may have been, and with loss come a degree of disorientation. If the loss is substantial—a relationship, a job, health, youth—we grieve.

In between the old and the new we fall into an uncomfortable place where we sort it all out until we are able to move forward. Sometimes we may feel we are stuck in that place for far too long.

Finally, we emerge and embrace—or at least, accept—the new. It isn’t easy, which is why change is so often underestimated. But, frankly we have no choice. Life is all about change. Every minute of our lives something changes. Sometimes it is imperceptible; sometimes, dramatic. But moment to moment and day by day, we find ourselves living in a new reality.

Resolved: to live in the moment

2011-01-04T18:32:00.000-08:00

My brother-in-law's best friend has been having headaches. They finally got bad enough to send him to the ER, where he was told he had a brain tumor. They operated the next day. The tumor was very large; the prognosis was very bad. It all happened in a matter of days.

Sometimes, life changes faster than that. We are never prepared. We had a storm in St. Louis last week. It was unseasonably warm, and a rash of tornadoes ripped through here, flattening houses and business in its wake. True, this is tornado alley, but not usually in the middle of winter. Fortunately, there were no fatalities, but a lot of people came close.

We take life for granted. We take health for granted, until we lose it. Is it human nature or just our western culture that blinds us to impermanence? Would I live differently if I remembered that all I can be sure of is this very moment? I know I would.

Resolving to live mindfully—being totally aware of NOW—would be a good way to begin 2011.

Hospital stay with a happy ending

2010-12-24T13:41:00.000-08:00

"You need a biopsy" is a scary announcement. "There is a slight complication" is scarier yet. Suddenly, there are gurneys, tubes, I.V.s, every-other-hour checks of vital signs, and endless waiting for doctors and diagnoses--all exhausting and uncomfortable.

I just spent two days in a very nice section of a very nice hospital. I started out in "special services" and ended up in a cross between an ER and a modified ICU. My room was OK, except that it lacked a bathroom. This was my first experience with an indoor port-a-potty and a sink as the only visible plumbing. After the initial discomfort of the tests and aftereffects, I spent a lot of time waiting and reading.

At the very last minute of the very last hour my doctor arrived and said the magic words: "It's not cancer; you can go home." As anticlimactic as the event was, I accepted it with gratitude and left as fast as I could gather my paperwork and hail a wheelchair. Despite the two long and miserable days, "exhausting and uncomfortable" were a welcome relief.

A Year of Learning Life's Lessons

2010-12-21T18:29:00.000-08:00

This has been a year of "lessons"—some revelatory, some repetitions of those I had learned and forgotten. I heard myself say "aha" so many times it became a private joke. I can't remember a year when I was so conscious of what matters and what is a waste of the space it was taking up in my brain. Permit me to share a few of my epiphanies with you.

Don't let a little tear in the fabric of your family become a huge rip. Do whatever you can to mend it while you can.
They say you can choose your friends but not your family. Good friends are family—the family you create by choice.
Moods are energy, and energy is contagious. If you don't believe it, see what happens when you smile and say something pleasant to someone who is crabby or rude.
Feeling OK is not the same as being healthy. Health is a gift, but you can do a lot to make it the gift that keeps on giving. Don't take it granted; life can throw you a curve when you least expect it.
Work is not labor when you are enriched by doing it. It is not about money or what others expect of you. Doing what you love and loving what you do is like hitting the jackpot every day.

Writing Is Not a Competitive Sport

2010-11-28T16:36:00.000-08:00

It seems like a very long time ago—well, actually, it was a very long time ago (1972)—that I met an editor who was in a race for her life. She edited the feature section of a major daily newspaper and was tyrannical in the way she ran her little fiefdom. She treated writers like second-class citizens, never returning calls, scribbling on carefully typed manuscripts, and developing a well-deserved reputation for rudeness. She only talked to me because I was a fellow editor.

I have no idea how old she was, though I had this sense that she was especially disdainful of young writers. One day she confided that she was indeed threatened by all of those fresh young faces coming out of the University of Missouri’s famed journalism school. “They are after our jobs!” she insisted. “And, if we’re not careful, they’ll get them.”

I could have learned one of two lessons from her: (a) Watch out for all those youngsters coming up behind me and don’t let them catch up; or (b) nurture talent wherever and whenever I see it. If they are better than I am, they probably deserve my job.

Fortunately, I opted for (b). I've never been sorry.

Form a New Habit: Look to the Left

2010-11-23T11:57:00.000-08:00

My daughter has a saying: "If you think you have problems, look to your left." This week, I was forced to do just that. She has two friends who recently suffered tragic losses due to serious accidents.

Such costly accidents happen every day. They are the stuff of the late news on local TV stations. Most of the time, when we hear about them, we feel a fleeting sense of sympathy and then go on about our business. We don't know those people. But when misfortune hits close to home—when it happens to a friend or family member—the sympathy we feel is long lasting and deep.

Often, in the midst of our sincere caring and concern, we take a moment to give thanks for our own good fortune. Our problems, whatever they may be, suddenly seem tiny and inconsequential.

Thanksgiving is two days away—a sanctioned and appropriate time to be mindful of all that have, rather than what we don't have. It shouldn't take a close-to-home catastrophe to simply "look to the left" now and then.

What to do when you are out of your depth

2010-11-21T12:13:00.000-08:00

I met with a new author recently who had taken her finished manuscript to a quick-print shop. The owner told her he could design and print her book for a few hundred dollars. He promised to show her a proof before he printed the final copies. When he delivered the book, however, it wasn't a proof. It was the final, printed book; and it was in a carton with many other final, printed books.

Unfortunately, the manuscript had never been edited, so there were many mistakes in its 240-plus pages. The "design" looked like it had been done by a group of first graders. And, in general, the book was about as bad as it could possibly be.

The printer didn't seem in the least disturbed. He collected his money, gave the author the files on a CD , and walked away. The story gets worse. The files on the CD were worthless and couldn't be corrected. The author was out her money and had no idea what to do next. In fact, she didn't even know what she might have done to prevent the current mess. She felt very stupid.

This author had never written a book before. She had been working on this one for many years and had no idea what the process of writing and publishing a book entailed. She was not alone. Many first-time authors are in the same position: They don't know what they don't know. They don't know what to ask or whom to ask.

Here is my advice. When you are out of your depth and don't even know what questions to ask, do two things. First, find an expert in the field; second, ask one question—What do I need to know?