Carol Newman Cronin's Blog, page 48

Book Review: Seeing Into The Unseen World

I stumbled onto this book almost by accident, proof that the most potent recommendations still come from people we “know,” or at least feel some connection with. The author, Liz Moore, and I have some Boston author friends in common, and as soon as I started reading, the setting felt familiar—even though I’ve never actually been to Dorchester.

(And since this is my first book review in 2017, feel free to let me know how well I follow my own recommendations for writing book reviews.)

The story itself is about a brilliant single father who runs a lab and educates his daughter, Ada, by bringing her to work. My brother worked in a very similar lab in the early 1980s, when the book begins, and even as I devoured the fictional story I was remembering his real life experience. The extra layer kept pulling me away to wonder where fiction and history intersected, but the words on the page kept pulling me back—proof of a subtle but consistent structure that framed what could’ve been a very disjointed tale into a great story.

When David, Ada’s father, loses his brilliance to Alzheimer’s, he leaves behind a history so complicated that it takes Ada the entire novel to work out what really happened before she was born. So on the surface it’s a story about family, and how we build strong connections with those we respect even if we aren’t related by blood.

Underneath, it’s also about science, and education, and how we learn… and about our relationship to our work. About language, and lies, and how to live our best lives even when that doesn’t match convention. There are so many themes, it’s impossible to list them all here.

And yet all these themes tie together neatly in the end. As soon as I finished, the confusing time line (which jumps, jarringly, from the 80s to 2009, about halfway through the book) looked logical and appropriate. And then the epilogue managed to surprise me all over again—even after I’d thought all the surprises were out in the open at last.

As soon as I finished the book, I started reading from the beginning again, unwilling to let it go—and wondering if the language quirks I noticed early on were part of the plan all along. Even though I only reread the first few chapters, it was obvious the second time through how carefully the story had been constructed. There’s a subtle structure holding it all in place, solid and quiet, never interfering with the story line. And unlike many novels these days, the final chapters are just as carefully polished as the beginning ones.

My only complaint were two small quirks in time when I was jerked out of the story: reading along in the moment, the narrator suddenly took a step into the future to look back with perspective on what I was reading as the present. Now that I’ve seen the overall structure, it makes sense that time could be mixed up like this; at the time, on the page, those two moments just seemed like editing mistakes.

Maybe they were mistakes; more likely, they were carefully planned accidents. Part of the beauty of The Unseen World is that it doesn’t try to explain everything in too much detail or tie up anything too neatly. Moore trusts the reader to make the necessary leaps from one fact to another; all she does is quietly provide the springboard. The lack of strict chronology only reinforces the mystery, drawing us to the logical but still surprising conclusion—and still leaving room for a very satisfying “aha!” at the end.

Maybe this story resonated with me because I grew up in a similar time and location… but I think not. Ada’s life is so different from mine, it does require a leap off that springboard to feel such an affinity. Luckily, Moore provides that.

This one is recommended for anyone who enjoys a carefully constructed literary yarn; there’s certain to be a theme here that appeals.

What I Learned Freelancing in 2016

I know, it’s already two weeks into 2017… and we’re all supposed to be looking forward, not back. But it didn’t occur to me until the last day of last year how many different things I’d learned since January 1, 2016. In the rich diet of continuous education, 2016 was a full on smorgasbord.

The reason I learned about so many new topics is because I worked for such a wide variety of clients. Here’s a random sampling of the subjects I got to learn about (or refresh my memory about) in the past 12 months.

New Topics
Investing in yourself

(A topic worthy of its own post.) Many one-design sailors agree that buying a new boat helps your results. This isn’t just because that new boat is actually better; when you shell out hard cash toward your sailing, you tend to invest more time and effort as well. (There is a less well-known theory about newly engaged sailors, who tend to sail better right up until they get married.)

The same is true for freelancers. Consciously adopting a “continuous education” approach has helped me justify money spent on office equipment and time spent on online courses (or focused noodling through the various blogs I follow). Investing in myself is fun, so it’s easy to forget that it helps me make connections between seemingly unrelated topics. It also makes me more confident and enthusiastic, which encourages me to embrace new challenges—and that benefits both me and my clients.

Reading weather maps

I’ve certainly had plenty of practice reading weather forecast text, but I’ve never actually learned to read a weather forecast map. I’m a little embarrassed to admit that “valid time” (the time the map’s forecast will be valid, which might be as long as three days after it’s issued) was a new term for me; I’ll never forget it now.

Non-disclosure agreements

I’d never been asked to sign an NDA before… and after very careful consideration, I decided not to sign this one. Words and ideas are not like scientific data points; it would be way too easy for a company to accuse me of sharing their ideas with others, even when I hadn’t. (And unless I could prove otherwise, I would’ve been on the hook for all the legal fees.) By going through the process, I realized that one of my goals was to build trust by being trustworthy—even though I wouldn’t sign my life away to prove it.

Refresher Course

Here are three quite different topics I learned more about last year:

Creating a book layout in InDesign

The last time I created a book layout was when I formatted Game of Sails back in 2011. Fortunately InDesign hasn’t changed too much since then, except to become even more powerful and easy to use. Powerful software is fantastic in the right hands, and mine were a little rusty; it took some time and a few refresher courses to remember how to build a Table of Contents, and how to coordinate master pages without losing valuable information. I’ll try not to forget again.

Agile workflow

Agile is an approach to project management that creates carefully time-boxed work segments in order to build a “safe to fail” environment. (It also prescribes continuous improvement, which was an excellent reminder about the value of experimentation.) I first learned about it in 2012, but I really got to delve into its details and value this past year. I hope to learn more about it (and continue to put it to work in my own business) in the years to come.

Boating etiquette

Back in 2013, I wrote a post about Sharing the Water. Apparently nobody read it, because a few months ago another client asked for a story on the same topic. It’s different, but the basic premise is the same: sailors, fishermen, powerboaters, and anyone else on the water needs to appreciate the other guy’s perspective. Look for it in print this spring.

Instead of working only for one company, we freelancers get to work for as many as we can juggle. That means we’re rewarded for continuous learning about a wide variety of topics. It may not always be totally efficient, but it sure means work is never, ever dull.

How To Write a Useful Book Review

According to both authors and publicists, reader reviews are the best way to increase online sales. And yet so many of them teach me more about the reviewer than about the book.

There are at least two reasons for this. First, what makes us a critical reader doesn’t always translate into excellent critical writing. Second, the best reviews are intimate and biased; something that only that particular reviewer could possibly have written. It’s hard to write intimately without it becoming personal, which is what separates the professional book reviewers from the rest of us.

So, now that we are all just a few clicks away from reviewing any book we read, how do we make our reviews useful to potential readers—not just another click for the bean-counting bots? Here are the two lists I will try to follow in 2017: What to Include, and What to Leave Out. Let me know if you think I’ve missed anything.

Wouldn’t it be cool if this sign really existed?

What to Include in a book review

Why I liked it (or didn’t)
What I usually read, especially if this book was a departure from the norm.
Were there any distractions, like grammar issues or plot twists or some weird font? (No plot spoilers, of course.)
Was it a quick read, or did I need time to savor each word and turn of phrase?
Were the characters believable and familiar, or different than I expected?

And here’s what I promise to leave out.
1. Absolutely no spoilers

The goal is to help future readers decide whether to buy the book or not, not to be the first one to spill the beans about what happens in the last ten pages.

2. No plot summary

I know it’s how we were all taught to begin our grade school book reports (if only to prove that we’d actually read and digested the story), but the official blurb should do that job. (If it doesn’t, the book probably isn’t worth reading.)

New York Times Book Review editor Pamela Paul covered this well in a recent interview, under the subhead “The best book reviews are emotional.” 

Last but certainly not least, I will

3. Edit a review before publishing

Typos not only make something harder to read; they reduce the clout of any written information, including a reader review.

I usually end up reviewing only the books I enjoy, since writing about a book increases the time spent in its world. But I often learn the most about the book and my own reading habits by forcing out a review of a book I didn’t particularly like. There’s a fine line between words that instantly create a picture in our brains and those that don’t, so explaining what I didn’t “get” usually makes me realize that it had something to do with me: I was distracted, or tired, or just not that into the story.

Biased and very personal, but not all about me: I’ll try to keep that in mind for my reviews in 2017 and beyond. It might not make them more important to the number-crunching bots, but it might help other humans decide whether to buy a book or not.

And PS, if you are inspired to post a review of any of my books, it will help improve their sales ranking with the bots and might also help future readers decide to buy. Thank you!

Best Posts of 2016

I’ve really enjoyed keeping up a weekly publishing schedule in 2016—especially as the number of comments and subscribers continues to climb.

And if you want weekly thoughts about books, boats, publishing, and our world delivered right to your inbox, please subscribe.

Thank you for reading! (And thanks to Alyce Dwyer for the great fall equinox sunset photo.)

Where Books Meet Boats

The overlap between books and boats continues to hold my attention. Here are three favorites from this year:

Rewarded for Playing Hooky 
Coaches and Editors: What They Have in Common


Filling the Idea Tank

Writing and Editing

While balancing a varied smorgasbord of paid writing and editing projects, I’m always looking for links between seemingly unrelated topics. Here are my favorites; for the full list, filter on the writing or editing category.

Two Facts, One Fiction: Three Deadlines


Fiction Writing: The Art of Dropping Breadcrumbs
Collaborative Editing: The Tools Don’t Matter
Avoiding Lloyd: Know the Bad Guy
Editing Best Practices: The Middle Distance

Olympics

Rio 2016 brought back many memories of my own adventures in Athens. Here’s what the August event inspired:

An Open Letter to all Medal-less Olympians
What Wins Olympic Medals is not What Wins Headlines
What Makes a Champion: Thoughts from Jimmy Spithill

Perspective on our World

I leave you with a reminder of the world around us—including my very first attempt at an infographic. May your final days of 2016 be merry, and thanks again for reading this year!

Trusting My Coastal Senses: The Science Behind Observation
Getting Away to a Different View
3×5 Ways to Change the World

12 Months, 12 Freelancing Lessons

I have to admit, I started 2016 with a bit of trepidation. After three years as an employee, I was working for myself again. Older: check. Wiser? I think so. But also more set in my ways, and even less eager to suffer fools. I wasn’t sure how this return to freelancing would go.

Now that 2017 is right around the corner, I can officially declare 2016 my best work year ever. I’m earning more, swearing less, suffering through fewer meetings, and building a broad client base. I’ve even (gasp) strayed outside the marine industry. Best of all, I’ve kept learning, helped clients meet a wide variety of challenges, and improved my office efficiency.

So as an end-of-year gift to anyone who might be worrying over the same leap into the unknown of self-employment, here are 12 lessons I’ve learned in the past 12 months. Happy New Year, and thanks so much for following along on this incredible journey!

1. Have a passion project.

A passion project is something you’re eager to work on even though you’re not getting paid for it. As Albert Einstein said, “All we need to make us happy is something to be enthusiastic about.” Once you have another focus besides work, a slow month of billable hours becomes cause for celebration rather than concern. I’m writing a fourth novel, but it could be pretty much anything that gets you away from mindless web surfing: rebuilding a porch, bird watching, learning to like lentils. All that matters is that you care enough about it to invest your own valuable time.

2. Get out of the office (#1).

Last July, I didn’t have quite enough work lined up for the summer. Instead of sitting at home worrying about it, I decided to leave town for a month (something I had never done before). Though I worked a few hours most days (see passion project, above), the change of scene gave me a chance to explore a new area, reconnect with some old friends, and establish a few new patterns. As a result, it sparked ideas for several blog posts.

3. Build trust by being trustworthy.

Treat ALL company information (especially an overheard bit of office gossip) as proprietary—even if you haven’t been asked to sign anything.

4. Get out of the office more (#2).

Schedule a fun adventure every week. Even if it doesn’t take you too far from the office, it reminds you that you’re in control of your own schedule.

5. Let me repeat: You are in charge of your own schedule.

When clients ask for meetings, don’t be afraid to counter-offer. Practice saying, “That doesn’t work for me; do you have any other time available?”, because that sounds so much more professional than “I have to take my cat to the vet tomorrow morning because she’s throwing up.” No one needs to know how you spend your time between appointments.

6. Nobody’s watching.

Routines are great, but changing them up can leave you refreshed and maybe even inspired.

7. When in doubt, err toward too professional.

Whenever I try to imagine how people envision freelancers, I’m reminded of an old TV ad. A woman working from home is on a video conference call, sitting at a desk and dressed in a suit jacket—and then the camera pans down to show her feet in their pink fleecy slippers. Clients probably assume we all work in our pajamas, and most don’t care—as long as we never show up in their offices dressed that way. When in doubt, step up the formality—if only to surprise a potential client.

8. Keep track of your overhead.

We have many masters, and every job will be a little different, so keeping tabs on all the details will take some time. Make sure you factor the hours you can’t bill for into your labor rate.

9. Don’t overshare.

Those of us who work for ourselves usually work by ourselves, and we often get hungry for human interaction. That does NOT justify boring a client with too much information about your wacky schedule or latest computer frustration. (If this is a challenge, you may need to reread “Get out of the office more #2.”)

10. Take initiative…

My clients hire me for my writing and editing skills, but they also appreciate my ability to focus. When they walk out of a meeting with me, they often walk right into another meeting on a totally different topic. Meanwhile, I can move forward right away on the project we discussed. Don’t wait to hear back if you can get something started on your own.

11. But: don’t color outside the lines.

Initiative is good… but it’s important to stay within the bounds of your assignment. Sometimes your perception of the most important problem to solve is quite different from your client’s, and they get to decide their company’s priorities.

12. Set a labor rate and stick to it.

If you don’t value your own time, nobody else will either.

 

Trusting My Coastal Senses: the Science behind Observation

Over the past few months, while paddling along the familiar shoreline of Narragansett Bay, I’ve been watching the ocean grow. Rocks that have proudly protruded above the surface for the past twenty years (except, perhaps, during a beautiful super moon) now disappear for an hour or so on a regular high tide. By trusting my own senses, I’m seeing changes in sea level right in my own back yard.

Ocean Science

I’m a writer, not a scientist, so the only reason I understand the root causes of my casual observations is that I’ve listened to the “doctor of fish.” John Manderson is a fellow sailor and longtime friend who works with both NOAA climatologists and fishermen to translate real-time data into future policies, and he often stays with us when he’s working in Rhode Island. Our free-flowing evening conversations range from grammar to grandparents to Greenland (which, by the way, may soon be turning green). And then inevitably, the topic always returns to this: the changes we’re seeing in our preferred playground, the ocean.

Several years ago, John told us about the butterfish changing its Atlantic migration pattern. This species had effectively voted with fins and tails, making a new home wherever its preferred water temperature could now be found. Like a coal mine canary, these fish signaled changes too subtle (and too large-scale) for even the most observant coastal writer to see.

One year ago, John shared a shocking bit of data: the Gulf Stream (something I’ve always taken for granted as a constant) is measurably slower today than it was five years ago. Egad.

And then just the other night, he told us about watching glacier melt in Iceland pour down from the mountains into the sea. To grossly oversimplify a very complicated topic, all that fresh water flows out to join the Atlantic gyre—and then pushes up against the east coast of the US, covering the rocks in my local harbor.

“I’ve mostly stopped talking about it,” John says. He’s tired of trying to explain that so-called “king” tides will soon be the norm.

What to do?

So what can we coastal dwellers do, now that these big picture changes are actually visible? According to John, it’s already too late to do much more than follow the lead of the butterfish, voting with our own fins and tails by changing our migration patterns. As a perennial optimist, though, he also suggests adopting less carbon-intensive habits. “Imagine if we all changed our light bulbs to LEDs, put up solar panels, rode bicycles more than we drove cars, ate from local farms and fishermen… There is hope in action by all of us, more so than in the glacial movements of those in power, who are unfortunately much slower than the rate of melt of the Greenland ice sheet.”

Sea level isn’t an exact fixed number anymore. Narragansett Bay and her big sister, the Atlantic Ocean, are not the stable, dependable bodies of water I’ve always taken for granted: they are growing before our very eyes. Fortunately, there are many, many smart people like John who can explain the underlying reasons for the changes I’ll see on my next paddle. All I can do (besides trying to reduce my own carbon footprint) is to trust my senses, open my mind, and listen.

Holiday Book List 2016

I only reviewed three books in 2016, even though I read at least a book a week as usual. One unfortunate fringe benefit of reading mostly ebooks: the story has to make even more of an impact for me to feel like I have something unique to add about it.

It’s probably not a coincidence that all three books I did review were read on old fashioned paper. But that doesn’t mean I reviewed all the paper books I read this year. One glaring omission was A Gentleman from Moscow, by Amor Towles. Since I devoured all 468 pages in five days (the copy was on hold at the library, and therefore not renewable), I didn’t have the time to savor the luxurious language and surprising ending, which is usually what inspires me to write a review. I’m currently reading Towles’ 2011 debut novel, Rules of Civility… and it too includes language worth lingering over. I’ll have to get back to you on whether the ending proves equally satisfying.

Without further ado, here are the rest of my 2016 recommendations:

Belgravia (Julian Fellowes)

I probably wouldn’t have bothered with this book at all if I hadn’t been in Downton Abbey withdrawal, and I’m sure the publishers timed its release accordingly. That said, it’s a great read with the occasional distraction of some surprisingly sloppy editing.

Believing the Lie (Elizabeth George)

The nineteenth Inspector Lynley book, and its cover was the only disappointment. If you’re looking for a gripping whodunit with well-drawn, complicated characters, any of George’s books will satisfy. I recommend starting at the beginning of the series, if possible; like your friends, the characters progress and grow from one book to the next.

Big Magic (Elizabeth Gilbert)

Hey look, a non-fiction recommendation! This is a book about the unique combination of inspiration and hard work needed to bring ideas to life. There are many, many inspiring images here, but my favorite was this: “Possessing a creative mind,” Gilbert explains, “is something like having a border collie for a pet. It needs to work, or else it will cause you an outrageous amount of trouble. “

Below are a few other novels that stood out for me in 2016. The links are to each book’s page on Goodreads, and most are available through your local bookstore; please consider supporting it this holiday season, if you are lucky enough to have one.

After the War is Over (Jennifer Robson). A young woman tries to rebuild a life in Liverpool after World War II.

America’s First Daughter (Stephanie Dray and Laura Kamoie). A well-researched novel about Thomas Jefferson’s oldest daughter, Martha, who mostly kept her father’s secrets.

The Truth According to Us (Annie Barrows). A young New York flapper is thrown into a small southern town to work on the Federal Writers’ Project.

The Coral Thief (Rebecca Stott). Napoleon is on his way to Elba when a British medical student arrives in Paris to study anatomy—minus his coral samples, which were stolen by a fellow traveler.

(Susanna Kearsley). A literary agent haunted by the death of her baby goes to Wales to escape her memories.

And here are links to previous lists:

2015

2013

2010

Mailchimp: Keeping it Personal

This week I want to send a shout-out to a company that makes my life easier every time I share a blog: Mailchimp. I’ve been a loyal customer since 2009, though “customer” implies some form of payment and I’ve been taking advantage of their “forever free” plan for the past seven years. 2000 subscribers and 12,000 emails each month is currently more than adequate to house this mailing list and the list for SnipeToday. Should either outgrow those limits, Mailchimp offers two convenient ways to upgrade: monthly or pay as you go.

I’m sure there are numerous other companies that offer similar email marketing services, though Mailchimp proudly states that they are “the world’s leading email marketing platform.” According to their website, they send more than a billion emails a day. But the reason I’m such a loyal Mailchimp fan is not their size; it’s their personality. They make it easy, but they also keep it light. Their mascot, Freddie, reminds me of that every time I go to their site. He’s smart, he’s friendly, and he’s present on every page.

The few times I’ve contacted the Mailchimp help desk, the banter has been upbeat and lively—though it never, ever interferes with getting a quick answer to my questions. I don’t know if they still do this, but in the early days the reward for being a good customer was a virtual “banana,” as in “That’s exactly right, two bananas for you!” After one particularly lengthy help desk session, they even sent me a chimp coloring book and a T-shirt—even though I felt I should be thanking them. If that’s how they treat their forever free customers, I can only imagine what they do for the paying kind.

I haven’t had to call the help desk in several years, because the technical side of sending emails that look good has continuously and dramatically improved every year. No longer do I have to grapple with html tags and formatting details, because Mailchimp templates take care of that. There are almost too many to choose from. And all the ones I’ve tested are easy to read on a variety of screens.

Currently Mailchimp has a statement on their home page that I heartily agree with: “Being yourself makes all the difference.” Blogs succeed when they are personal and genuine, because that’s the only thing that differentiates humans from bots. Companies succeed for the same reasons, though most lose touch with that perspective as they grow. Mailchimp’s company culture is “proudly weird,” an approach that feels more personal than corporate. That wouldn’t work on its own, but when combined with technical expertise and products that simplify and improve our communications, it makes them stand out in a very crowded marketplace.

So thank you, Mailchimp. You’ve made it easy to check one item off my list each week; sending updates to my most devoted readers. And more importantly, you also make me smile—every time I see Freddie.

Live an Interesting Life

In 1988, I asked my grandmother (novelist Daisy Newman) what I could do to improve my odds of writing fiction that would be worthy of publication. Her response? “That’s easy—live an interesting life.” And in spite of the huge gap between her life and publishing experiences and my own, that surprising answer has proved to be very valid.

For most of Daisy’s long writing career, getting a book published meant clacking away on a typewriter, paper-clipping her corrections to each original page, and then finally, after several years of work, agonizing through a meticulous proofread of the large format paper galleys that showed up in her mailbox. Even after she transitioned to a word processor, she discussed any significant (and some not so significant) changes to a story with both editor and agent, by either detailed letter or lengthy phone call.

Needless to say, my own publishing adventures have been quite different. From a tactile perspective, seeing a book through to publication no longer involves carriage returns, paper clips, or perfect-bound galleys. On the human interaction front, even when I worked with an outside publisher there were no intense exchanges about this plot detail or that character flaw. On the rare occasions that I do get the luxury of discussing my work in any detail, it’s usually with a fellow author.

Whether she realized it or not, any mechanical publishing advice Daisy might’ve given me in 1988 (which is what I was asking for at the time) would have no longer been remotely useful by 2008 (when I published my first book). In contrast, “live an interesting life” is still relevant—and the best advice I could’ve received as an aspiring novelist. It provided a good excuse to follow my passions, so even when I realized that publishing wasn’t my only goal, it led me in the right direction. Along the way, I’ve collected a rich variety of experiences that are much more than just great memories; they are building blocks for future stories—even if my imagination melds them into something quite unrecognizable by the time the writing is finished.

Several of Daisy’s books are still in print, more than twenty years after her death. Some of them may even still be in print when their copyright expires. And while I might not have realized it at the time, she lived a life that was very interesting to her. So even though both our prose and our publishing experiences are quite different, there are some definite similarities between her world and mine. We both have lived a non-traditional life, we both have let our imaginations run free while following our passions—and we’ve both seen our stories in print.

Leaving Our Comfort Zone: 3 Things

Pop quiz: What do these three things have in common?

Working with a client outside the marine industry
Attending yoga classes with a friend
Working with a partner

Answer: They are all new expansions to my previous definition of self. (And fortunately, Stacey Szabo designed me a new business card that’s totally flexible.)

Thing #2 may seem completely unrelated; I would argue otherwise. Could having the courage to step outside my usual industry and work with someone else have inspired crossing a bridge to attend yoga classes? I say the answer is “yes,” though I’d need a do-over to prove it.

A few months ago, a former colleague reached out to inquire if I’d be interested in helping with an editorial experiment, and even though I haven’t worked on a boat-free project since the late 20th century, I signed on. That led to partnering with another former colleague, which is a first for me. One new step led to another.

And the yoga? Well, that’s a bigger change than it might seem, because over the years I’ve developed a workout routine that doesn’t involve classes of any sort. But when a new opportunity arose to cross that bridge, I took it. Once we are rewarded for leaving the comfort zone in one area of our lives, it’s easier to make leaps elsewhere.

As we age, it’s easy to fall into comfortable habits that soon dig themselves into furrows, which eventually become deep enough to be called “ruts.” We find something we like, and we stick with it. There’s nothing wrong with that; good habits come out of being comfortable, just as bad ones do.

But the only way we discover new good habits is to shake things up once in awhile. Sometimes we’re forced to do that by an event outside our own control. At other times, we get the luxury of choosing change on our own terms. Either way, it’s important to say “yes.”

The day after the first yoga class, I was a little sore—a sure sign that I’d pushed harder than usual. Working with a new client and partner, the signs of growth and change will be more subtle. Who knows, I might even stretch the boundaries of that comfort zone.