Stephen H. Provost's Blog, page 11

Strict dress codes send our kids a message: We care about your appearance, but we don't believe in you

We’ve got it backwards.

Somewhere along the line, some of us decided to trade personal responsibility and freedom of expression for “the devil made me do it”-style passing the buck. We decided that accountability wasn’t important – that it’s better to judge the proverbial book by its cover than to bother reading a single word inside.

Here’s what got me going today: A school district in Clovis, California, right next to my hometown, tried to keep a student from enrolling in classes because he wears his hair in a short ponytail. He wasn’t just any student, but an honors student with a 5.0 grade-point average who said he wanted to honor his cultural heritage.

But his motivation shouldn’t matter. Cultural. Religious. Artistic. I couldn’t care less about his motivation it, as long as he’s not a terrorist or gang banger. What I do care about is that the school is abdicating its core mission: Teaching young people how to forge an adult identity – something they’ll never learn if they don’t have a chance to express themselves.

Pride.

Responsibly.

Without excuses.

"DISTRACTIONS"

It’s easy to make excuses, to say that a student isn’t learning because he or she is “distracted” by a peer’s appearance. Excuse me for saying so, but that’s an insult. Kids are smart enough to know they can study just fine, thank you, when someone’s wearing a colorful shirt, a beard, a pair of earrings or long hair. And they’re disciplined enough to do it, too – especially when adults expect it of them.

But we don’t. Instead, we expect them to fail just because someone else has a few hairs “out of place” (by our standards) or has the audacity to wear a T-shirt that might just prompt someone to think outside the tight constraints of the administration’s imaginary box. “You’ll be too distracted,” we tell them, “to be able to learn.”

Guess what: If kids can’t learn because they're 'distracted' by some guy’s wearing facial hair, they won’t be able to function in a professional world that places a premium on broad skill sets and the ability to adapt. Distracting? You bet. They’d be better off getting used to that kind of distraction and, wouldn’t you know it, they can handle it – better than many of us imagine.

CONFIDENCE

It’s only when we stop having confidence in our youth that they dumb themselves down and stop listening to us. Why should they listen to people who expect them to fail in the face of some perceived external obstacle – even something so minor as the way a person dresses.

Instead of encouraging them to focus on their goals and take pride in their achievements, here’s what we’re teaching them: to stop trying and scapegoat others for their failures. Do we really want to be complicit in this? Do we want to be the ones who teach them that a book’s cover is all that matters? That style is more important than substance?

If we tell them that a classmate’s clothing can “make” them fail academically, how different is that than telling them a woman’s clothing can “make” a man rape her?

The fallacy here is that we’re faced with an either-or situation, that we must either raise a bunch of irresponsible hippies who never contribute anything to society or a generation of imperial storm troopers in identical white armor.

That’s a false choice based on a lack of confidence in our kids – based, for some of us, on the assumption that their creativity is a threat to everything we’ve achieved. We accuse them of being undisciplined, of having no taste in music, of wasting their lives. For all our talk about making the world a better place for our children, we sometimes fail to realize that the best way – ultimately, perhaps, the only way – to do that is to empower them to make it a better place for themselves ... and we do the exact opposite.

SCAPEGOATS

We teach them to scapegoat others, which is the antithesis of empowerment.

But it's easy because what we all too often do ourselves.

We stop living our own lives, and two things happen: We make others (minorities and immigrants; those “others” who don’t look like us, practice our religion or speak our language) into fall guys for our failures. Meanwhile, we live vicariously through the clones we place on cardboard pedestals – celebrities, athletes and politicians, but most of all, our kids. Objects all of our own wish fulfillment.

Our kids, of course, aren’t clones or “mini-mes,” and we’re no better than those obnoxious parents who shout obscenities at Little League games. We teach them to play the game our way, then express disappointment when they ultimately decide to be writers or artists instead. In the meantime, we occupy ourselves by screaming at the poor scapegoated umpire to “go find a pair of glasses!” when that last strikeout’s our fault for forcing our kids into a mold that never fit them.

LESSONS

I’m thankful my parents never did that. They encouraged me to play basketball in junior high, but they never objected when I decided not to pursue it further.

And my high school never told me I couldn’t attend classes because I grew a full beard during my senior year (when it looked very much the same as it does in the photo accompanying this article, taken at my college commencement ceremony). No one ever complained that it was a distraction, and as for me, I blasted through my final semester with straight A’s.

If I’d been in Clovis, I might have been barred from enrolling in class.

We have two choices. We can empower our children to surpass our achievements, or we can enslave them to our ultimate obsolescence.

My own hope is that we equip our kids to go in search of lands yet undiscovered on roads less – or not yet – traveled.

On the trek that is our shared human journey, that will make all the difference.

What if we could vote "no" on candidates?

I want to vote "no" this election.

Not “none of the above.” This is different: I want to be able to actually vote against candidates I don’t like.

The cold, hard truth is there are a lot more politicians I don’t want elected than candidates I can get excited about, and I’m guessing you might feel the same way.

Sure, we can put photos of them dartboards and engage in some friendly target practice, and we can squawk about them on social media. But what if we had an actual, tangible way to express our displeasure — not by voting for some other candidate we might consider the lesser of two or more evils, but by casting a vote directly against that vile carpetbagger, commie or corporate crony we so despise?

Think of the satisfaction! We bemoan the lack of voter participation, yet just imagine how many more people might come to the polls to bury Caesar (under a mountain of “you suck!” chads) than to praise him.

ONE PERSON, TWO VOTES?

Pollsters routinely measure both favorable and unfavorable ratings for candidates. Why shouldn’t we be allowed to express those opinions at the ballot box?

What if voters got to vote twice: Once for the candidate they like, and once for the candidate they wouldn’t want to see in office before hell freezes over or a Led Zeppelin reunion tour — whichever comes second. (If I were a betting man, I’d put money on permafrost in hell over “Stairway to Heaven.”) Each vote would count equally, so you’d subtract the nays from the ayes to arrive at a net score. Imagine if the winner got 3 net votes instead of 3,000 or 3 million. We wouldn’t hear much talk of a mandate then!

Well, maybe we would. These are politicians we’re talking about.

If we wanted things to get even crazier, we could treat candidates like ballot propositions and vote "yes" or "no" on every one of them!

One complication: We’d have to change “one man, one vote” to “one man, two votes.”

So, as an alternative, we could retain the single vote — but give voters the choice of whether to vote for one candidate or against another?

RELEVANT AGAIN

Either way, the system would likely be a boon to two kinds of politician: moderates (aka centrists) and third-party candidates.

With radicals and true believers on both sides voting against their opposite numbers, the vast American center that’s often drowned out by all the shouting from the extremes might be able to gain a little clout by staying quiet. Third-party candidates would benefit, too, from flying under the radar (which they’re often very good at, despite their aspirations to the contrary.) A modest number of positive votes coupled with almost no negatives might just be enough to win it.

Would such a system result in more positive campaigning, because fewer candidates would want to risk getting too many “no” votes? Or would it give rise to even more vicious smear campaigns against the candidate viewed as the greatest threat?

Those are interesting questions.

CONSEQUENCES

Either way, candidates would have to think even more strategically than they do now, which could be even more fun to watch for political rubberneckers than it is now. We might as well post a traffic sign that reads “Warning: political pileup ahead.” For those who view politics as blood sport, this would be more fun than a trip to the Roman Colosseum in its heyday.

We voters would have to cogitate a little more, too. Do we vote for the candidate we like most or against the candidate we fear most? Or do we vote against someone else because that would be the biggest help to our favored candidate or party?

Delicious, isn’t it? There are all sorts of permutations and possible scenarios to consider.

I’ll leave you to consider the possibilities … and to wonder if this is a serious proposal or whether it’s all just tongue in cheek.

Sorry, but I’m not going to tell you. Instead, I’ll leave you with the same piece of advice that’s given to voters every time they enter the voting booth: You decide.

5 Ways Artists Can Defend Themselves Against Trolls

Don’t be a DiC. Dismissive critic, that is. DiCs are closely related to trolls and bullies, along with other, even less savory characters.

They’re all over the place these days, multiplying like Roger and Jessica Rabbit on a pleasure cruise through cyberspace.

The DiCs are newly empowered by 140-character limits and more platforms KISS and Lady Gaga have in their combined shoe collections. But they’ve always been with us, eager to sacrifice our feelings on the altar of their egos. A few well-chosen words, and our self-esteem can go up in flames.

Why do they do it?

Mostly because they want to look like authorities on something. Anything. And it’s a lot easier to spend 30 seconds banging out those 140 characters than it is to spend years earning a degree or doing any actual research.

Social media has leveled the playing field in many respects, with one result being that any Tom, DiC or Harry can claim expertise and proceed to tell others why their inferior. Because they can, they do. And all too often, we let them trap us inside a house of cards. They mark what they consider to be their territory with sarcastic tweets, hit-and-run Facebook comments, and scathing reviews on Yelp or Amazon.

Authors, musicians and other artists  can be particularly susceptible to DiCs, because we put our heart and soul into what we create.

How to combat them? Here are five suggestions.

Understand their motives

Yes, it’s personal, but it’s not about you. It’s all about them. These insecure egotists have a single goal: Building up their own sense of worth via a false comparison with someone else. They try to remake their victims in the image of their own straw men (and women), so they can proceed to tear them – you – down.

Don’t let them, because you really are better than they are – and they know it. If they trick you into believing the opposite, they’ve won.

Recognize their methods

DiCs want to insulate themselves from any fallout because, when it comes right down to it, they’re more scared of you than you are of them. That’s why they hide behind computer screens, podiums and their own dismissive tone when confronting others.

They use sarcasm in place of substance. They favor personal attacks and fallacies over rational discussion. And they hate to lose, so they’re going to pretend they’ve won even if your logic is unimpeachable.

My advice: Don’t waste it on them.

Think of them as venomous snakes defending their territory: They lie in the weeds, just waiting to inject their poison into you because they’re scared you’re more powerful than they are. And they’re right: You are. They want to bring you down before you can use that power against them, even though you probably wouldn’t have even noticed them otherwise … and that’s the one thing they find scarier than being exposed as powerless: not even being noticed in the first place.

Don’t engage

Paradoxically, even as they seek to ensure your own safety, they actually want you to respond. Why? Because they need to be noticed. If you respond, it satisfies their egos by demonstrating that they can control someone else. You’ve taken the bait, and now you are (in their minds, at least) under their power.

Just the other day, someone tossed a dismissive piece of criticism in my direction from the safety of a public podium. I had no opportunity to respond, because that podium provided the critic with the safety he felt he needed.

But that wasn’t the end of it. After the meeting was over, he approached me to “reassure” me that his remarks weren’t meant personally – and, conveniently, to reaffirm his position. He attempted to assert a measure of authority by stating he had some background in my field. I responded briefly with my reasoning, then he told me something to the effect that he “wanted to let me know” his opinion.

I initially took this as a cue to restate and elaborate on my own point of view, but before I could do so, I stopped myself. That was, I believe, exactly what he wanted me to do. Instead, I looked him in the eye, nodded once, and politely said, “OK.” He didn’t have much choice at that point but to walk away, because I’d asserted my control by ending the conversation on my terms.

Listen just long enough

One problem with DiCs is they realize critiques can be helpful. If we simply tuned out all criticism, we might miss the constructive kind. You know: “Your fly is open” or “You have something between your teeth” or “You might not want to say that in polite company.” It’s in our own best interest to take notice of constructive criticism, and the DiCs use this fact to get their foot in the door by masquerading as people who “just want to help.”

Here’s the best way to respond: Listen just long enough to determine whether their criticism is constructive or dismissive, then, if it’s the latter, disengage. Shake the dust off your feet and walk away. The bad news is that some DiCs are so practiced at drawing people in that they’ve become adept at concealing their motives and identity. The good news? Once you know their methods and motives, you’ll become adept yourself – at seeing through their camouflage.

They won’t know what’s hit them when you shut that door in their faces.

Oh, and one more thing: Once you've identified them as DiCs, don't let them back in.

Seek out constructive criticism

It may seem counterintuitive to actually go looking for criticism, but the more you seek out constructive criticism, the better off you’ll be.

Not only do constructive critics give you information you may need, they also provide barometer against which to measure the DiCs.

Constructive critics:

1)      Tell you the truth, whether it’s affirming or critical. They’re not “yes men” or DiCs; they’re authentic.

2)      Don’t have any personal stake in whether you take their advice or not. They’d be no less fulfilled in their own lives either way. They aren’t trying to stroke their own egos. They’re only engaging with you because they care about you.

3)      Are civil and respectful. Because they’ve got no dog in the hunt, they won’t bully or pressure you. They recognize and affirm your right to make your own decisions, even if they don’t agree with them.  

Constructive critics are essential because they are, first and foremost, not critics but allies. They’re your friends before anything else. They want to affirm and help empower you, not prove that they’re somehow superior.

The more allies you have, the more perspective you’ll gain and the better you’ll become at recognizing the DiCs.

There’s another advantage, too: Because they’re your allies, you’ll have more support when those DiCs do, inevitably, rear their ugly heads. You won’t be singing solo anymore: You’ll have a chorus of voices telling them to go right back where they came from.

 

 

 

Why Hillary Clinton's in trouble. Again.

People don’t like being told what to do. Americans in particular. We don’t like “presumptive” candidates and inevitability. Yet that’s what both major political parties have tried to hand us in the current presidential race: candidates who are heirs apparent to political dynasties.

At the start of this election cycle, the powers that be were telling us about the near inevitability of a fall campaign between Hillary Clinton and Jeb Bush. They had the money, they had the name recognition. It was all over but the shouting.

Now here we are at the start of 2016, and Clinton’s lead over a self-described socialist independent (Bernie Sanders) for the Democratic nomination is shrinking dramatically. Bush is struggling to even maintain a viable candidacy, far behind Donald Trump – who’s anything but a lockstep Republican dogmatist. In fact, you’d be hard pressed to find two people who have behaved less like party loyalists over the past couple of decades than Sanders and Trump.

Meanwhile, former New York mayor Michael Bloomberg is weighing an independent run.

It’s amazing that political operatives haven’t caught on to what’s happening and, more importantly, why it’s happening. This isn’t your typical election cycle, in which populist candidates emerge, gain brief traction, then are cowed into submission by party machines spinning retread propaganda. Here’s why this is happening.

Lesson No. 1: You don’t win by running out the clock. Any sports fan knows this. How often have you watched your team try to sit on a lead or switch to a “prevent defense,” only to see hungrier opponents seize the opportunity to steal the game. They sense your team’s fear. They smell blood. And they pounce.

This is what happened to Hillary Clinton when she willingly donned the mantle of “presumptive” nominee back in 2008. She tried to sit on her lead, milk her “aura of inevitability” for all it was worth … and watched a hungrier Barack Obama sprint past her like the Roadrunner to claim the nomination.

The pragmatic Clinton wants to continue Obama’s policies; the revolutionary Sanders wants to build on them. Guess which sounds more exciting to the Democratic voter?

Lesson No. 2: You don’t win if you can’t learn from history. If the definition of insanity is “doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results,” Clinton’s halfway there (while, ironically, seeking to present herself as the most rational of candidates). She’s following the same kind of strategy that lost her the nomination in 2008 and expecting it to work better against Sanders than it did against Obama. Perhaps she assumes Sanders to be a weaker candidate than Obama was. But it’s helpful to remember that she didn’t view Obama as a major threat early in 2007, either.

As Lao Tzu said, “There is no greater danger than underestimating your opponent.” She appears to have done it again.

Lesson No. 3: Like it or not, it’s a game. Some might take offense at my use of sports analogies, but the candidate who loses sight of the fact that politics is blood sport does so at his or her own peril.

Regardless of what you think of him or his policies, Trump seems to understand this perhaps better than any other candidate in the race today: “Money was never a big motivation for me, except as a way to keep score,” he once said. “The biggest excitement is playing the game.”

Many of us complain, in high-minded fashion, about negative campaigns and the horserace aspect of politics, but we still watch – just as we still gravitate toward negative headlines in print and online. There are times we say one thing because we’re embarrassed to admit the truth in polite company. If everyone else is high-minded, we want to appear that way, too.

But not if someone is telling us we need to appear that way. The same people who give in to peer pressure on a regular basis will balk at “going along to get along” the minute someone comes right out and tells them what to do. Once the pressure shifts from subtle to overt, from suggestion to expectation, we do an about-face and tell the self-proclaimed authorities and experts where to stick their presumptions.

Yes, elections are more than Monday Night Football on a debate stage. Policies are at stake that can change the course and quality of lives across the nation and beyond. But whether it be the NFL or the stock market, Americans have been brought up to believe that competition weeds out the less fit and creates the kind of success that benefits us all.

We declared our independence from a monarchy, and we don’t want to go back. Sure, we like all the pomp and circumstance surrounding our idols and icons, but we want to be the ones holding the crown at their coronation. We don’t like arriving late to the show and finding someone else has made the decision for us.

If people try telling us who we’re supposed to support, we’re likely to flip them the bird and vote the other way. That’s one reason Obama won in 2008, and it’s the same reason Trump and Sanders are seeing such strong support as we enter 2016.

People are telling us, “You can’t support him,” at which point we tune them out and refuse to hear them tell us why. Their reasons might be valid or not, but we don’t care. What we care about is that someone has presumed to try to tell us what to do.

Lesson No. 4: The familiar may be comforting, but if we perceive our lives to be less than what they should be, we’ll look elsewhere for answers. Fresh faces will trump (pun intended) staid guardians of the status quo when the deep flaws in that status quo are on display.

In the past, the status quo usually carried the day. But two things have changed that have upended the conventional wisdom behind running traditional “safe” campaigns.

The Great Recession. Many Americans still feel as though they’re caught in it, either because they have yet to recover financially or because things have gotten better so gradually it’s hard to notice an improvement. The status quo hasn’t been nearly as attractive as it used to be since 2007. That’s almost a decade now, and the longer the situation persists, the more deeply an aversion to “good enough” becomes in our psyche. Running a safe campaign won’t work the way it once did until/unless the middle class is firing on all cylinders and prosperity touches a broad swath of economic sectors.Social media. Our immediate, online connections to one another have empowered us like never before. We don’t get our news exclusively from “authoritative” sources anymore, but from each other. The more effective social media are at providing an alternative voice for the voter, the more attractive alternative voices will be among candidates for public office. We vote for people who reflect our values, and those values are shifting right along with our level of connectivity. We’re realizing that, more than ever before, we can circumvent the “system” and call the shots ourselves now. People spouting rehearsed lines sound less and less authentic because we’re talking more to people who “go from the gut” and “tell it like it is” – each other.

Old-school politicians are still playing by the old rules. But once the game start to change, those rules matter less than they used to. Eventually, it becomes a whole new ballgame.

At this point, traditional candidates like Hillary Clinton still have a lot of tools at their disposal: party backing, deep-pocketed backers, ballot access, etc. Clinton may well win the Democratic nomination, but if she continues to "sit on her lead," she may find herself without a lead to sit on. On the other side, Trump has maintained his top-dog standing in the polls far longer than any of the "experts" predicted he would.

Whoever the nominees are and wherever we are in the course of our political evolution, it will be fascinating to see how it all plays out - both this year and long-term.

Let the games begin.

Which word? Ten common mix-ups and how to avoid them

Less isn't more, but it's not "fewer," either.

Loose lips may sink ships, but if you lose those lips, you won't be able to sink much of anything with that mouth of yours.

If you've ever bitten your tongue or ground your teeth in a conversation  with someone who's used "between" instead of "among," here's a shortlist of the 10 most common mistakes I've seen in 30 years as an editor — and some tips on how to avoid them.

1. Less vs. fewer

"Fewer" refers to a something that can be counted, such as jelly beans or coins or subatomic particles. "Less" should be used for things that aren't quantifiable, such as water or wood or grease. One commonality you'll notice here is that "fewer" usually works with words that end in "s" — plurals. It's helpful to remember that this doesn't always apply. For instance, some plurals derived from Greek and Latin, such as "criteria" and "fungi," don't follow the formula (plural: formulae). But in most cases, it's helpful to remember this simple rhyme: If it's less, just hold the "s."

2. Its vs. It's

"It's" is a contraction of "it is." Its is a possessive: belonging to it. Here's a handy way to remember this one: You wouldn't write hi's or her's or our's (at least, I hope you wouldn't!). The problem here is that proper names do take an apostrophe, but pronouns don't. This might be Stephen's blog, but it's not hi's.

3. Lay vs. Lie

"Lay," like "assure," is an action typically performed on an object. It's something you do to something. Lie is something you do to yourself. You may lie on the bed, but you lay the pencil down on the desk. In this context, "lay" is a synonym for "place." If you're unsure which to use, try substituting "place" for "lay/lie." It makes sense to say you placed the pencil on the desk, but not that you "placed on the bed." Interestingly, there's far less confusion between "sit" (I sit in the chair) and "set" (I set the glass on the counter), even though the same principle is involved. Having grown up in Southern California, I have a theory on this: All the sun lovers there habitually announced they were going to "lay out" in the sun. Even though this phrasing was incorrect, it was so widely used that it became accepted; it's possible that the habit of misusing "lay" crept into broader use from there.

4. Comprise vs. compose

It's become more fashionable (but no more correct) to use the phrase "comprised of" in all instances — probably because people think it sounds more intelligent or sophisticated. It doesn't. Fortunately, there's an easy way to remember how this distinction works: If you're tempted to use "comprised of," just substitute its synonym, "included" in your sentence. You'd never say something is "included of." 

5. Assure vs. ensure vs. insure

"Insure" has to do with insurance. It's something you pay for. To ensure something is to offer a guarantee (ensuring that there's enough time to accomplish a task). No money required. "Assure" is something you do to someone, just as "reassure" is. It's typically followed by an object: "I assure you that I'll be there on time." Without the object (you), "assure" wouldn't work in this sentence. 

6. Loose vs. Lose

I'm not sure why there's so much confusion here. Think of it this way: You might lose the game if your trousers are too loose. "Loose" has two o's, so it's bigger around, and that's when your trousers are likely to hit the floor. (How embarrassing!)

7. Onto vs. on to

"Onto" involves the act of moving something from on place to another — putting it "onto" something — but people have developed the habit of writing about "holding onto" things. That's incorrect, because you're not moving anything. The proper phrase here is "hold on to." There's an easy way to remember this: You can "hold on" without "to," so you should keep that word separate when you add it.

8. Infer vs. Imply

You imply something, but you infer a conclusion from information. I'll admit this is one of the harder distinctions to remember. The best tip I can offer: You've probably never heard anyone claim to have implied something from something else. Remember this simple saying: Infer from info. ("Infer" is similar to "lay" and "assure" in that it needs an object — even if it's only an implied object — to make sense.)

9. Me vs. I

I think three-quarters of American schoolkids in my generation were chided for telling some adult, "Me and my friend want to go out and play." We got so accustomed to being harangued for misusing "me" as a subject, that we overcompensated by using "I" as an object: "That mean kid was bullying my friend and I." We even started thinking that "I" was intrinsically more sophisticated than "me" (just we elevated "comprised" above "composed.") Fortunately, most people only make this mistake when more than one person is the object of the sentence. No one would say, "That mean kid was bullying I." If you're unsure which word to use, remove the other person from the equation, and the answer becomes clear.

10. Flaunt vs. flout

When you're flaunting something, you're showing it off. When you're flouting something, you're acting in defiance of some rule, expectation or norm. This one's pretty easy to remember: Just repeat the old saw, "If you've got it, flaunt it." Substituting the word "flout" sounds jarring — and it should.

Author's Bonus: Fiction vs. Nonfiction

We're used to saying something's not true; we never say it's "not false," because we're smart enough to realize that would be a double-negative. Unfortunately, the fiction/nonfiction distinction doesn't work the way it should. "Nonfiction" contains an inherent double-negative: It refers to a story that's "not not" factual or historical. In other words, it is factual or historical. Yes, this is confusing. Yes, it makes very little sense. But it just goes to show that, sometimes, nonfiction really is stranger than fiction.

 

 

Writing out the old year, writing in the new

It's Christmas night, and I'm reflecting back on the past year, thinking about how lucky I am to be a writer. I get to learn about fascinating people and places, and I get to tell their stories to folks who might otherwise never have known them.

Sometimes, if I'm working on a novel, I get to send characters out of my head into a whole new world - the "real" world - and I get to introduce them to some new friends: whoever's kind enough to invite them onto their nightstand, onto their bookshelf and into their hearts.

Other times, when I'm writing nonfiction, I have the privilege of reintroducing readers  to men and women from times past - people they might have forgotten or perhaps never knew. I get to be the voice of the dead, the singer of lost songs, the teller of old tales. 

And this year, I got to do it professionally. After publishing eight works independently over the previous three years, I was fortunate enough to see the release of my first traditionally published book and sign a contract for the release of a second. To say 2015 was a very good year would be an understatement. To achieve, at the age of 52, something that's been a dream since I first set out to write a novel more than three decades ago is immensely satisfying, to say the least, and I'm grateful to each and every one of you who took the time to let me know you enjoyed "Fresno Growing Up."

I have to admit, it's a little strange - but gratifying - to find myself doing book signings and giving library talks about my work. When I first dreamed of becoming an author, I was a teenager with a few friends, a lot of time on my hand and a fertile imagination. These days, as the editor of a small-town newspaper and a published author, I'm something of a public figure, but deep down I'm not that much different than I was as a teen. I suspect a lot of other authors aren't, either. Many of them, like myself, are probably introverts and dreamers who started writing because they'd already begun creating worlds inside their heads - and because the world "out there" can be a little daunting. 

As an introvert, I find it enormously satisfying to find that some people "out there" enjoy the creative results of my reclusive fantasies and historical investigations. It makes me want to write more.

So that's precisely what I intend to do. My lofty goal: to produce more work in the coming years that you'll enjoy just as much as "Fresno Growing Up" - perhaps even more. I'm setting a target  to write two books a year for the rest of my mortal life and trusting my creativity to keep pace with that ambition. 

Next year promises to be just as much fun as 2015 was. I'll be hard at work on fine-tuning my second historical project, a book on the history of Highway 99 in California, which is set for release late in the year, and I've also finished my second novel, for which I'm currently seeking a home.  I like to think of it as a kitten in a basket that I'll place on the doorstep of the perfect publisher, who'll pick it up and make it purr for the masses. Another ambitious goal, to be sure, but who can resist a cute little kitten?

I'm so excited about this project that I've already started working on a sequel (something you're not supposed to do before you sell the first book, but I've spent most of my career as a writer and editor being conventional - I figure it's time to think outside the book jacket for a change). I don't want to give away too much, but the concept behind this series is based on a principle I took from my nonfiction work: the richness of history and the magic behind memory. It's a paranormal novel without any vampires, zombies, werewolves or any of the other standard characters you've seen before. Intriguing? I hope so. I'll just leave it at that.

Beyond that, I've done some preliminary research, writing and photography for another highway book, which will likely receive my full attention once the in-progress sequel is done. 

Beyond that, who knows? For us writers, the discovery's the best part of the journey.

 

Why we should stop using "ISIS" and "Islamic State"

I've consistently spoken out in favor of the right to self-identification. If people want to go by specific names or adopt a certain label for themselves, they should be able to do so without any squawking or squabbling from the peanut gallery.

It's not Cassius Clay, it's Muhammad Ali. Stephanie Joanne Angelina Germanotta goes by Lady Gaga. And no matter how odd we might have though Prince's symbol name was back in the '90s, that was how he wanted to be identified. So be it. No matter how many times Sean Combs/Puff Daddy/P. Diddy changes his name, we've got to respect that, too. 

But I realized recently that there's important caveat to the right of self-identification: Regular, decent folks should get to choose what they want to be called. The bad guys? Not so much.

Naming rights

The "naming rights" craze for stadiums, bowl games and other major events has always made me cringe. Candlestick Park was always Candlestick Park to me until they tore it down. My wife, who lived for many years in San Diego, is of a similar mind: She refuses to call Jack Murphy Stadium by its new corporate name, even today. 

Back when the bowl-naming financial bonanza got started, nearly thirty years ago, I wrote a column about my refusal to include the corporate sponsor's name in news reports when referring to the Cotton Bowl or the Sugar Bowl. My reasoning? If Tostitos or Discover or some other corporate entity wanted to advertise in the newspaper, it should pay the newspaper for advertising space (heaven knows newspapers need the revenue these days!).

I was gratified when my editors backed me on that decision, even though it went against the grain of what most newspapers were - and still are - doing.

Shaming rights?

Still, while tongue-twisting corporate names like the Poulan Weedeater Independence Bowl and the MagicJack.com St. Petersburg Bowl are annoying in the extreme (trust me, folks, I couldn't make this stuff up), corporate sponsors don't necessarily fit the definition of "bad guys."

Maybe, however, one NFL owner does.

Should we really be referring to an NFL team by its nickname when that nickname focuses on the color of a person's skin - and is considered a racial slur by a large segment of the population? I don't think so, even though I covered a high school team with the same nickname a couple of decades ago, before I'd thought the matter through. Proponents of the name argue for "tradition," but a bad tradition is a lot worse than a good innovation.

A few publications have refused to use the name in print, as have a few scrupulous journalists. I've talked to some who eliminate all references to the nickname by simply referring to the team by its home city of Washington. Good for them. It shows you don't have to sacrifice accuracy for the sake of respect. Still, despite this, the vast majority of publications continue to use the nickname simply because that's what the franchise owner chooses to call the team.

Is that reason really good enough?

Propaganda rights?

Even worse is the willingness of many media outlets to let acknowledged terrorist groups self-identify - even when their names are inaccurate or offensive to a segment of the population. Or both.

The prime example of this is the continued use by some - both in the media and in the general population - of the acronym ISIS to describe a Middle East-based terrorist organization. CNN has been particularly stubborn on this, even though it's patently inaccurate: ISIS stands for "Islamic State in Iraq and Syria." This despite the fact that:

The vast majority of Muslims have repudiated it as patently un-Islamic.It doesn't constitute a state in any sense that the term is generally used.Its activities aren't confined to Iraq and Syria

Three inaccuracy strikes and you're out, right?

The Associated Press made some progress by calling it the "Islamic State group," but even that term legitimizes it - remember, this is a terrorist organization - by deferring to some perceived right of self-identification as the "Islamic State."

I'm sorry, call me crazy, but when you start decapitating people, leveling building and enslaving large populations, I think you ought to lose a few of your "rights."

Isis is, in fact, an ancient goddess who's still revered by some segments of the population. So perpetuating the use of this term amounts to valuing a terrorist group's right to self-identification ahead of both peaceful Muslims and peaceful devotees of Isis, both of whom should have a right not to have their reputations sullied in print.

Look at it this way: Would any media outlet call this group "CHRIST" or "The Christian State" if it chose to identify itself that way? I don't think so. Nor should it. 

Where your rights end

Continuing to use the term ISIS is not only inaccurate and irresponsible, but also extremely damaging. Associating this group with Islam legitimizes terrorists by allowing them to usurp the identity of a major religion - and use that conferred legitimacy to recruit naive and disenchanted Muslims. Beyond that, it risks implicitly encouraging a backlash against the vast majority of those who follow Islam and want absolutely nothing to do with terrorism.

The right of self-identification, like every other right, should never be taken as absolute. Former Supreme Court Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes said, "The right to swing my fist ends where the other man's nose begins." Certainly, this applies to rocket launchers as much as it does to fists. And the right to self-identification, even for law-abiding peaceful people, it's not a right enshrined in the Constitution. It's merely one being conferred in the course of our communication.

We need to stop conferring rights upon terrorist organizations. If prison inmates don't have the right to vote, terrorist groups shouldn't get a vote on what we call them.

A year ago, the French government decided to stop using terms like ISIS and Islamic State to describe the group in question, and British Prime Minister David Cameron announced Wednesday that he'd be doing the same thing. Both of them, along with a growing number of world leaders, favor of the Arabic term Daesh - which the group itself despises because it can be interpreted to mean "crush underfoot."

That's precisely what this group is doing to those who disagree with its radical and violent ideas. But instead of being sensitive to how innocent Muslims (and an Egyptian goddess whose worship predates this group's existence by five or six millennia) are being dragged through the mud, we're worried about the sensibilities of people who want to conquer, kill and enslave people.

That doesn't say much about our commitment to accuracy, and it says even less about our values.

Microaggressions and Megaphones: Challenges to Free Speech in the 21st Century

"I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it." - Evelyn Beatrice Hall in "The Friends of Voltaire" (1906)

"Congress shall make no law ... abridging freedom of speech, or of the press." - First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution (ratified 1791)

All seems pretty cut and dried, right?

But we sometimes forget how much has changed since these words were written. "Freedom of the press" to the Founding Fathers meant the right to publish and distribute political treatises like Thomas Paine's Common Sense or early newspapers such as the Connecticut Courant.

At the time the First Amendment was being formulated, only about 100 newspapers were being published in the United States. Even with a decline in daily newspaper publication over the past quarter-century, the figure as of 2014 stood at more than 1,300.

Public libraries, another form of disseminating written work, weren't commonplace until Andrew Carnegie's building binge of the late 19th and early 20th century.

Communication has gotten complicated - not just written communication, but spoken communication and even implied communication. "Censorship" and "political correctness" have become buzzword weapons in a war of words on social media, college campuses, talk radio and cable TV. None of these modes of communication was envisioned by Voltaire or Benjamin Franklin.

When newspapers were the only game in town, one could always write a letter to the editor, but it might or might not be published, and even then, only after a delay of several days or even weeks. Failing that, you could go out on a street corner and rant against whatever the paper had published. Or you could sit on your hands. There weren't many other options.

These days, responses are immediate. A tweet can go viral in a matter of minutes and spur hundreds or thousands of retweets and responses. Interviews with newsmakers and wannabe newsmakers are witnessed live on CNN, Fox or other TV outlets. People get defensive on both sides, tempers escalate quickly, and all the rhetoric winds up - ironically - impeding communication.

(Similarly, the proliferation of more sophisticated weapons has made interpreting the Second Amendment more challenging, practically speaking, than it was in the era of muskets and militias.)

There have always been limits to freedom of speech. You can't yell fire in a crowded theater, and you can be sued if you go around maliciously defaming people. But in an era of instant communication and immediate response, the question arises: Should more limits be adopted? And if so, what should they look like? Does freedom of speech give you the right to shout over someone so no one can hear their speech? What about speech that offends another person? I'll explore these questions in turn.

Megaphones

Cable TV networks, talk radio and widely viewed websites are today's equivalent of a megaphone. They amplify a message in a way that can expand a speaker's - or writer's - audience exponentially.

Does freedom of speech also give you the right to wield such a modern megaphone? I argue that it doesn't. The First Amendment's guarantee was meant to encourage a level playing field by taking government out of the picture ("Congress shall make no law ..."). Government was excluded from any official role in organized religion for the same reason.

But the field is anything but level. Heavily funded corporations, political action committees, unions and other entities have handed out multimillion-dollar megaphones to those they believe will do their bidding most effectively. This plays out differently in two arenas: the public sector and private sector.

In the private sector, the person paying for the megaphone calls the shots. The government's only role in the situation is to protect the owner of the megaphone. Think about it. In earlier times, the press was one of the few real megaphones available, and its freedom is expressly protected under the First Amendment. It stands to reason that an entity can choose to supply a megaphone to whomever it chooses (or withhold it), for whatever reason - just as a newspaper can choose what and what not to publish. Access to the megaphone is a privilege, not a right.

People in the audience who don't like what's being said, however, have every right to use the "power of the purse" (withholding business, urging a boycott) in persuading the owner of the megaphone to take it away from someone and/or hand it to someone else.

I wrote about this when a controversy arose over anti-gay comments made by Phil Robertson on the A&E show Duck Dynasty. My point was that A&E had every right to decide who used its megaphone and for what purposes. "Congress shall make no law" can't be translated into "A&E shall make no policy." One involves the government; the other doesn't.

The fascinating result of all this was that pressure from one side led to Robertson's suspension from the program - after which pressure from his supporters led to his reinstatement a few days later. This showed both the public's ability to influence decisions by speaking out and A&E's protected role as owner of the megaphone to decide who would wield it. Regardless of which side you're on, I'd say free speech worked exactly the way it's supposed to.

On the other hand, however, I would argue (against the current Supreme Court majority) that government's role in regulating megaphones under the First Amendment changes when it comes to public elections - because, in this case, the government decides who gets to use the megaphone. By interpreting the Constitution to allow unlimited private funding of elections under Citizens United, the high court has effectively handed the megaphone to some people (those with sufficient funds to influence an election), while withholding it from others.

Does limiting the amount of money an individual can contribute to a candidate have a chilling effect on free speech? Only for those who can afford to buy a megaphone. Overall, it encourages free speech by allowing a far larger number of candidates and proposals a seat at the table.

It also could, effectively, shorten the campaign season by forcing candidates to spend their (more limited) funds more judiciously. Under the "unlimited funding" system now in place, for instance, 3 of 17 Republican candidates and half the Democratic field (3 of 6) had already dropped out of the 2016 presidential race more than two months before the first caucuses in Iowa. Others have been forced to scale back operations, limiting the reach of their message. All this before any votes have been cast. This system not only curtails speech, it damages democracy by replacing votes with dollars in deciding who can even reach the starting line.

Microaggressions

The issue of megaphones gets even more complicated when it shows up on college campuses, some of which are publicly (government) funded, and others of which are private entities.

The tradition of freedom of speech in an educational context dates back to Athens (also the "cradle of democracy"), where philosophical "schools" would openly debate issues of policy and philosophy. In light of this, it's ironic that Socrates, the famed philosopher, was executed on the twin charges of rejecting the city's gods and corrupting its youth ... through the exercise of free speech.

Universities in the United States have long dedicated themselves to free speech as a means of furthering dialogue and facilitating learning. Upper-division seminar classes encourage student participation, often through the use of the Socratic Method. In the 1960s, the Free Speech Movement that began at UC Berkeley and quickly spread encouraged students to speak out forcefully on such issues as civil rights and the Vietnam War.

Now, however, that seems to have been flipped on its head - ironically at the behest of those who, like the architects of the Free Speech Movement, describe themselves as liberals. Instead of encouraging free speech, they're seeking to limit it by focusing on "microaggressions" and demanding "trigger warnings" that sound not too different from those Parental Advisory stickers that appear on music releases deemed to contain explicit content.

One problem with microaggressions is they're often unconscious: Someone offends you without realizing it.

The obvious response would be to make the person aware that he/she has offended you. "Hey, do you realize the word 'Redskin' is a derogatory term that calls attention to a person's skin color? It offends me when you use it." But many who focus on microaggression go further: They shame even unintentional slights, because the person "should have known better." From there, it's a short step to believing that the person actually did know better: that the slight was intentionally cruel.

Next, the aggrieved party may start to be on the lookout such slights. This is natural. If you've been hurt, you don't want it to happen again, and you become more sensitive to potentially threatening situations.

Such a person would, also naturally, focus on people who outside his or her particular group. If this sounds like profiling, it is.

After a while, the slights, intentional and unintentional, real and imagined, begin to add up, until the person becomes convinced they are pervasive among members of the "other" race/gender/social class.

These slights then become a defining feature of that group - as much so as that group's skin color, gender or economic status. People in that group are treated as guilty until proven innocent, with the expectation and belief that they are prejudiced simply based on who they are - not what they've done.

Merely being offended doesn't make a premise valid or one's logic sound. In our desire not to invalidate a victim's feelings, have we instead created new victims by automatically validating conclusions that may or may not be true?

Turnabout

Whereas the 1960s movement made a point of offending people, the current movement seeks to ensure that people aren't offended. Free-speech activists in that earlier time spoke out most often on behalf of minorities and those who lacked a significant voice in policies that affected them - such as potential draftees. Today's activists seek to "protect" some of the same individuals by limiting speech.

Few of these individuals would criticize the Free Speech Movement, as most of them still share its central goal of giving voice to the socially and politically disenfranchised. But what becomes apparent is that the most vocal cries of "Microaggression!" are coming from those who not only disapprove of what others are saying but are willing to fight hard to keep them from saying it.

Evelyn Beatrice Hall, and, undoubtedly, Voltaire, would certainly not approve. Nor, I think, would Socrates or those who champion the method of discourse that bears his name.

Lest you think that liberals are the only ones involved in this sort of thing, it should be pointed out that those at the other end of the political spectrum are equally guilty. Both sides have been eager to ban books they don't like from libraries - which, like universities, are supposed to be dedicated to the spread of information - if they don't line up with the "proper" agenda. Some conservatives don't like Harry Potter or The Grapes of Wrath; some liberals object to The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

Both sides seem to be saying, "Free speech is fine and dandy, so long as it isn't a threat to my agenda."

As with elections, public universities and public libraries are places where the government has a role to play, and the only role consistent with the First Amendment is supporting freedom of speech - regardless of whose agenda is being promoted or whose feelings are being hurt. Private universities (that receive no public funds) and libraries are a different story. There, the megaphone is wielded by people outside the government, and they get to set the agendas as they see fit, whether they be conservative Christian institutions or bastions of liberalism.

Civility

But what happens when a guest who has expressed controversial viewpoints is invited to speak at a university?

Should a university provide a megaphone to someone who has expressed views a majority of its students find uncomfortable or even ethically abhorrent? 

Cardiff University in the UK recently rejected a petition to cancel an appearance by feminist author Germaine Greer that was based on remarks directed at transgender women: "Just because you lop off your d--- and then wear a dress doesn't make you a f------ woman. I've asked my doctor to give me long ears and liver spots, and I'm going to wear a brown coat, but that won't turn me into a f------ cocker spaniel."

The comments were undeniably offensive and put the university in a difficult position, given its dual identity as gatekeeper and facilitator. In the former role, it got to decide whom to invite in the first place: who should wield its megaphone. In the latter, it is dedicated to facilitating open discussion. As Colin Riordan, the university vice chancellor, put it, "We are committed to freedom of speech and open debate. Our events include speakers with a range of views, all of which are rigorously challenged and debated. This event will be no different."

In other cases, however, universities have rescinded invitations for prominent individuals to speak - often at graduation events - because of controversial views. The University of Vermont, for instance, canceled economist/actor Ben Stein's scheduled commencement address in 2009 after students objected that he rejected the theory of evolution. In another case, Dustin Lawrence Black, the Oscar-winning screenwriter for the Harvey Milk biopic Milk, was cut from the graduation program at Pasadena City College after sexually explicit pictures were hacked from his ex's computer and circulated online. The college subsequently reinstated him as its speaker.

Commencement speeches aren't the same as mid-semester lectures. For one thing, the entire student body is involved at graduation. For another, it's not an optional exercise - unless a student chooses to miss his or her own ceremony, which would be a shame. Typically, the speaker is expected to be inspirational, reflecting commonly held values, rather than controversial.

That is (or should be) common sense.

But common sense seems to be missing all too often from debates over microaggressions, trigger warnings, hurt feelings and free speech. So does civility. 

Civility was certainly absent when a Black Lives Matter group marched to the Dartmouth College library in New Hampshire earlier this month (November 2015), some of them shouting "F--- you, you filthy white f---s! F--- you and your comfort. F--- you, you racists." When one girl in started to cry, one of the protesters reportedly screamed, "F--- your white tears."

Yes, freedom of speech protects this - though Dartmouth, a private college, is investigating and can certainly dole out consequences for violations to its code of conduct. But what does it accomplish, other than to alienate people who might otherwise listen? And who is truly prejudiced here? Based on the language directed at people they didn't even know, it's hard to escape the conclusion that the protesters shouting obscenities had made up their minds that all white people were a bunch of "filthy ... racists."

Perhaps an even more important question is this: Should the "comfort" of some people be our main concern or, rather, the discomfort of others? Shouldn't we strive to make everyone feel more comfortable? 

The either/or mentality pits people against one another, rather than encouraging them to work together at finding a solution.

If we were civil, sensitive and respectful to one another, we wouldn't feel the need to use shame and political pressure to muzzle those who don't share our agenda. We wouldn't be reticent to share our diverse opinions without feeling the need to impose them on others. We wouldn't be afraid to express our own distinct cultural, gender, racial and social identities while at the same time seeking commonality and embracing our shared national and human experiences.

Some people say, "Stop being so offended!" Others say, "Stop being so offensive!" Civil discourse requires that we heed both those injunctions, rather than loudly affirming one and conveniently ignoring the other.

Free speech and sensitivity aren't mutually exclusive. In fact, they work best when they go hand-in-hand. Somewhere along the line, we seem to have forgotten that. Consider this a friendly reminder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

7 Tips for Becoming a Successful Author

What does it take to be a successful author? First, you might want to ask yourself what it means to be a successful author. Since writing's about communication, Job One is to communicate with your reader. If you can do that, everything else is likely to follow: good reviews, a publisher and yes, maybe a few extra dollars. But ignore those things when you're writing or you'll never get there. To get you started, here are seven tips on how to go about it. 

1. Know your craft.

You can't write a book if you don't know how to write a sentence. Don't tell yourself, "The editor will fix that." Two simple facts: No editor will know or care as much about your work as you do. If you use your editor as a crutch, it means you're limping along, and you need to be in the best shape of your life to do this. If your editor is anything but a last line of defense, you're using him/her wrong. You are the expert on your story, so act like it. Care enough to understand language and how to use it. This doesn't mean following your eighth-grade English teacher's rules religiously. Dialogue, for example, should be true to your characters - the rules of grammar be damned. But here's Tip A1: You need to know the rules so you can know when to break them. 

2. Think like a journalist.

Yes, some journalists get lazy and rely on a "paint by numbers" approach to writing. Too often, they fall into the habit of relying on the same clichés passed along to them by police chiefs and public information officers. But they have one advantage most other writers don't: a hard deadline. They can't take the day off because they have "writer's block" or feel like sleeping in. They can't tell their editors they "don't feel like writing today." I asked bestselling author John Scalzi how his background in journalism helped him in his career as an author. This was his answer: The deadlines he faced gave him the discipline to write consistently.

3. Inhabit your world.

Remember when Chevy Chase blindfolded himself in "Caddyshack" and hit the golf ball onto the green? Maybe you don't. (After all, the movie came out in 1980.) His character's advice was to "be the ball." This doesn't mean you should blindfold yourself while you're writing. That probably won't work too well. But it is a good idea to block out distractions and put yourself in the middle of the action. Imagine you're the protagonist or, if you're writing nonfiction, one of the people affected by the events you're describing. The more you're a part of the story, the more invested you are; the better you can describe what's happening and, even more important, the what the characters are feeling. If you like living in your world enough to stay there for eight hours straight writing about it, chances are your readers will, too.

4. Write conversationally.

This is not the same as "writing the way you speak." If you were to do that, the result might not even be coherent. You're a storyteller, so tell a story. Spin a yarn. Don't write a thesis or a form letter. You're not trying to impress people with your vocabulary or talk down to them like a second-grade teacher. You're trying to grab and keep their attention. If you start writing like a bureaucrat or a textbook writer, no one's going to want to read your stuff. Even other bureaucrats fall asleep reading small print, and students have to read textbooks, but they don't want to, do they? Reading should be fun, so have fun with your writing. Your attitude will come through.

5. Don't write a memoir.

Seriously. Is your name Oprah Winfrey or Michael Jordan, Kennedy or Reagan? If not, most people probably aren't going to want to read about your life. Even if you're the best writer since Stephen King, few people outside your immediate family will want to read about the time your Aunt Mabel fell asleep in her mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving dinner when you were 7. Nothing against you or your Aunt Mabel, but subject matter matters. Readers want something they can relate to (yes, that's a dangling modifier, but see Tip 1A). Too many writers use the tired admonition to "write what you know" as an excuse to write about their own lives. The trick is to infuse your writing with what you've learned from your experiences, not relate those experiences verbatim and call them a story.

6. Write like an explorer.

What's around the next bend, over the next hill? Write like you can't wait to find out, and you'll give your readers that same passion for your story. You've heard the advice to "write like a reader," which is good as far as it goes. But go further. If you're reading a good story, you'll want to be an explorer, too. The writing will pull you along, and you'll be eager to turn the page to find out what happens next. Write with that same desire, with a passion to learn about your characters and the world you're describing; your readers will pick up on that and go along for the roller-coaster ride.

7. Write with abandon.

Be fearless. Don't worry about what happens if your manuscript doesn't sell. There aren't agents or publishers, queries or rejection letters in the world you're creating for your readers. You can be whoever you want to be, and that's the beauty of it. Your last book didn't catch on? So start the next one (you should have started it already). Stop thinking about your boss' demands, your favorite video game, the dirty dishes, your Facebook friends or the big game on TV. The minute you pause to let the "real world" intrude upon your creative process, you'll lose the flow and find yourself out of the zone. That zone is your gateway to success.

The Story Behind "Fresno Growing Up"

"Fresno Growing Up" was, like most books we authors write, a proverbial labor of love, and all the more so than most because of its subject matter. It's about the place where I grew up, a city that happened to be growing up itself at the same time (hence the title). The postwar Baby Boom era defined the Fresno for tens of thousands - even hundreds of thousands - of residents. It was what many consider the city's golden age, when it was growing not only up but also out, stretching its wings northward and learning to fly along new freeways and buy at new shopping malls.

As I write this, Fresno may well be entering a new golden age, with downtown redevelopment proceeding at a pace not seen in decades and the city reclaiming some of the vibrancy that marked the era covered in my book, roughly from 1945 to 1985. 

I no longer live in Fresno, and in fact, it was my departure from the city that planted the idea for this book in my head. In 2011, I found myself without a job due to downsizing within print journalism: For the first time in more than 25 years (all in the San Joaquin Valley and 14 of them at The Fresno Bee), I wasn't working at a newspaper. Ironically, I'd chosen journalism so I could write for a steady paycheck - something a career as an author couldn't promise - and I had spent the majority of my career in newspapers as an editor rather than a writer.

After a year as a substitute teacher at Fresno Unified, an opportunity arose to get back into journalism with The Tribune in San Luis Obispo, so I left the Valley for the first time since age 15. It was then that I started to write books. My wife, Samaire, can take a good deal of credit for this: She'd always wanted to be an author herself and had what seemed like a hundred stories swimming around in her very creative brain. I said to myself, "If she can do this, why can't I take a stab at it?" I'd gotten into journalism to be a writer, so why not write?

My primary job at The Tribune was as a copy editor, but I also started producing an occasional column on language and communication. Meanwhile, I was self-publishing a series of books under the name Stifyn Emrys (see the Works section of this website). I wrote about ancient history, mythology and philosophy; I produced a children's story, a dystopian novel and a companion novella. Then there was a book called "Undefeated," a series of stories about individuals who had overcome prejudice and bullying. 

This last project served to whet my appetite for delving into recent history, and Fresno seemed to be the ideal topic. Despite having moved to an area (California's Central Coast) that's pretty close to paradise, I was, in some ways, homesick for Fresno - not necessarily the city that it had become, but rather, the place where I grew up. According to the old saw, you can't go home again, but I decided to try anyway, and I chose writing as my means of transportation.

I'd read a few works on the early history of Fresno, but I hadn't seen a book dedicated primarily to the postwar years - the years I remembered from my youth - so I decided to write one.

Writing nonfiction is, for me, a process of exploration and discovery. I'm not the sort of author who sets up an outline, accumulates folders full of notes and gets "everything in order" before I start on the actual text. I research and write as I go, because it keeps things interesting. Each new revelation leads to another line of inquiry, pulling me along like the passenger on a scenic tour of some wondrous land who never quite knows what's around the next bend. As the journey continues, an outline takes shape on its own.

In the case of "Fresno Growing Up," the work evolved into a three-part project: the first part dealing with Fresno's postwar growth, the second revisiting the city's pop culture during the period, and the third focusing on sports and recreation. Plenty had been written on local government and civic leaders, so I turned my attention instead to the people who built Fresno's movie theaters and shopping malls, who scored the goals for the Fresno Falcons or the touchdowns for Jim Sweeney's Bulldogs, who made and played the records we all heard on KYNO and KKDJ.

Starting with my own experience as a base, I consulted books on Fresno and books the Baby Boom era, looked up hundreds of newspaper articles and conducted phone interviews with some of the folks who helped shape that era - people like Dean Opperman (who graciously agreed to write the foreword for the book), Roger Rocka and Dick Carr. Some of those I tried to contact didn't return my calls, and in a sense, I couldn't blame them: I hadn't written any books under my own name at that point, and my newspaper writing for the previous decade and a half had consisted largely of headlines and photo captions. Bylines? They were practically nonexistent. 

Besides, I didn't have a publisher. I didn't even considered looking for one until the book was finished, assuming that I'd just publish it myself through CreateSpace (Amazon's self-publishing platform), as I had done my previous works. But then, this project had something those earlier books hadn't: a large number of historical images, along with a collection of photos I'd taken myself. I'm a writer by profession, but I've always enjoyed photography, and to be honest, I got as big a kick out of taking pictures for "Fresno Growing Up" as I did writing the text.

Bottom line: I knew I couldn't create the kind of presentation I wanted for these images within the constraints of CreateSpace's platform, so I decided to test the waters with traditional publishing by contacting Linden. The Fresno-based publisher had a great track record (nearly four decades in the business) and had published just the sort of regional history book I was producing. Among its titles: Catherine Morison Rehart's series on "The Valley's Legends & Legacies," illustrated books by Pat Hunter and Janice Stevens, and volumes showcasing Pop Laval's vintage photos of Fresno.

I had heard one horror story after another about authors papering their walls with rejection notices and unagented authors not even being considered for publication, so I was ecstatic when I heard back from the folks at Linden that they were interested in publishing my book on their Craven Street label. Now, with the book scheduled to hit the shelves in just over two weeks, I'm just as excited as I was then - if not more so. The quality of the book's presentation not only met my high expectations, it exceeded them, and I believe provides a fitting tribute to Fresno during the era covered in the work. It's my hope that those who grew up in Fresno during the postwar period will agree with me, and will join me in the concluding that, contrary to that nettlesome old saying, sometimes you can go home again.