Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 192
July 15, 2019
When Harry Met Sally, and When Matt Met Elysha
Yesterday, July 14, was the ten year anniversary of my publishing career, but today, July 15, is an even more important anniversary.
Today Elysha and I celebrate our thirteenth year of marriage.
I was recently listening to The Rewatchables, a podcast about films that people love to watch again and again. They were discussing When Harry Met Sally and debating how realistic it would be for Harry and Sally to end up together at the conclusion of the film. Both women on the podcast argued that although it’s the happier, more satisfying ending. these things don’t happen in real life.
Friends like Harry and Sally never marry. Improbable relationships never end up happily ever after.
I was debating the truth behind these jaded statements when it occurred to me that Elysha and my marriage was just as improbable as Harry and Sally’s marriage.
When I met Elysha in the waning days of summer of 2002, I was married to another woman and Elysha was engaged and just a few months away from being married to another man. Yes, my marriage wasn’t ideal, and yes, Elysha was beginning to have doubts about her engagement, but still, we were both committed to other people in long term, serious relationships.
Elysha and I first laid eyes on each other on a late August day during the first faculty meeting of the school year.
I remember thinking that Elysha was beautiful, young, and impossibly cool. The kind of girl who would never even look in my direction.
She remembers thinking of me as one of the cool kids, laughing and joking my way through that first meeting with my faculty friends.
We started out as colleagues, a single classroom separating our two classrooms. Our first real conversation took place during a hike with students around the lake at Camp Jewell in Colebrook, CT. Elysha was telling me about her upcoming wedding, and as a wedding DJ about five years at the time, I offered her advice on her upcoming wedding and told her about my own wedding.
An improbable movie moment if ever there was.
Eventually Elysha and I began friendly. She asked me to do her taxes. I dropped her off at the garage to pick up her car. She and I took students to lunch at The Rainforest Cafe at the end of the school year as part of a school fair raffle prize.
We were friendly, but after that meal, we said goodbye for the summer, never speaking until the beginning of the next school year.
We were friendly, but we certainly weren’t friends.
Elysha called off her engagement about two months before the wedding, and around that same time, I separated from my wife. Even then, we didn’t get together. After picking ourselves off the ground, we eventually began dating other people. Elysha was set up by a colleague and started an almost year-long relationship with another man. I dated a few people, including our school psychologist.
Our friendship, like Harry and Sally’s, deepened during that time, but still, there was no romance. We were simply good friends dating other people.
About a year later, as our relationships with those other people began to wane, we turned toward each other. In truth, I had noticed Elysha right from the start but had always assumed tat she was too beautiful and - more importantly - too cool to ever be interested in me. The fact that she was my friend was thrilling enough.
But as out late night phone calls grew longer and longer and we shared more and more of our lives with each other, I started to wonder if it was possible that Elysha Green could actually like me.
Like like me.
Elysha made the first move during a hike on Mount Carmel in Sleeping Giant State Forest. On the way down the mountain, she reached out and held my hand.
I couldn’t believe it.
Later that night, in the parking lot of our school, she told me that she liked me, and my response - chronicled recently on this blog - was, “I’m flattered.”
Don’t ask me why. I’m stupid sometimes.
Five minutes after she drove off, I replayed the conversation in my head and realized how stupid I had been.
“I’m flattered?” What was I thinking? She likes me!
I panicked.
I called and called to apologize and tell her that I liked her, too, but Elysha was famous back then (and now) for not listening to voicemail messages, so I went to bed worried that I had blown my chance with the coolest woman I had ever known.
Classic romantic comedy misconnection.
I corrected things the next morning, chasing her down and rejecting a note she had written to me asking if we could still be friends. That night, we kissed for the first time in the parking lot outside my apartment.
Two months later, we moved in together. Six months after that, I asked Elysha to marry me on the steps of Grand Central Terminal in New York City while two dozen friends and family secretly watched amongst the throng of holiday travelers.
On July 15, 2006, we were married.
Friends like Harry and Sally never get married? Improbable romances never work out?
Nonsense!
I could write a movie about our relationship - a great romantic comedy - and those two jaded women on the podcast would probably say the same thing:
A boy and girl meet at work. One is married. The other is engaged and about to be married. Their first conversation is about the girl’s pending nuptials. Over time, they become friendly.
Then the boy’s marriage ends in divorce. The girl calls off her engagement just a couple months before the wedding. They engage in new relationships with new people, all the while becoming better and better friends.
Those relationships with other people begin to fail, and then one day, while hiking together on a mountain, the girl reaches out and takes the boy’s hand.
His heart bursts with joy.
Later, she confesses her love to him. He fails to reciprocate because boy’s are stupid. Eventually he chases her down and corrects his mistake. Confesses his love.
They kiss. Marry.
Today they celebrate 13 years of marriage. They have two kids. A home. Two cats. A brilliant, beautiful life together.
“Yeah, right,” those women on the podcast would say. “Never happens.”
Improbable? Maybe.
Impossible? Nonsense.
Happy anniversary, honey.
Speak Up Storytelling: Live from Miss Porter's School!
On episode #58 of the Speak Up Storytelling podcast, Elysha and I take our show on the road to Miss Porter's School in Farmington, CT.
Today's podcast was recorded in front of a group of students who will be spending the week with me, writing, telling stories and learning to podcast.
In our follow-up segment, we will learn about the storytelling possibilities while competing in the sport of curling, and we will go under the podcasting hood to discuss some of the hopefully occasional imperfections in the editing of our podcast.
STORYTELLING WORKSHOPS 2019
July 27: Storytelling workshop (advanced), CT Historical Society
July 29-August 2: Storytelling bootcamp, CT Historical Society
August 17: Storytelling workshop, Taproot Theater, Seattle, WA
October 4-6: Storytelling workshop, Art of Living Retreat, Boone, NC
October 25-27: Storytelling workshop (beginners), Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health
December 6-8: Storytelling workshop (advanced), Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health
STORYTELLING SHOWS 2019
August 10: Great Hartford Story Slam at Hartford Flavor Company
August 17: Solo storytelling show at Taproot Theater, Seattle, WA
September 7: “Tests” at Real Art Ways
Next I tell a story live to my students.
Amongst the many things we discuss about that story include:
The importance of listening when searching for new stories
Creating scenes in the minds of the audience
The importance of getting listeners to wonder what is going to happen next (and the ruthlessness that is sometimes applied when you're not wondering what will happen next)
The "laugh laugh laugh cry" model of storytelling
Using surprise in order to turn a story
Finally, we answer student questions about telling other people's stories and why we never invent things that didn't actually happen when telling our stories.
LINKS
Purchase Storyworthy: Engage, Teach, Persuade, and Change Your Life Through the Power of Storytelling
Purchase Twenty-one Truths About Love
Homework for Life: https://bit.ly/2f9ZPne
Matthew Dicks's website: http://www.matthewdicks.com
Matthew Dicks's YouTube channel:
https://www.youtube.com/matthewjohndicks
Subscribe to Matthew Dicks's weekly newsletter:
http://www.matthewdicks.com/matthewdicks-subscribe
Subscribe to the Speak Up newsletter:
http://www.matthewdicks.com/subscribe-speak-up
July 14, 2019
Ten years of publishing... TODAY!
I am celebrating my tenth anniversary in publishing today!
On July 14, 2009, I published my first novel, Something Missing, with Broadway Books, a division of Doubleday, thus making a seemingly impossible dream come true. I can still remember walking into the now-defunct Borders Books and seeing my book on the shelf for the first time.
This was followed in 2010 with the publishing of my second novel, Unexpectedly, Milo, also with Doubleday.
In 2013, I switched to St. Martinâs Press, a division of Macmillan, and published Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend, my most successful book so far. In 2016, I published The Perfect Comeback of Caroline Jacobs, also with St. Martinâs Press, and in November of this year, Iâll publish my fifth novel, Twenty-one Truths About Love.
Sometime in 2020, my sixth novel The Other Mother, will publish here in the United States. Itâs already been published abroad.
I also published Storyworthy: Engage, Teach, Persuade, and Change Your Life Through the Power of Storytelling in 2018 with New World Library.
Six books in ten years. Itâs been an amazing decade.
in addition to publishing in the United States, my books have also been published in more than 25 countries overseas, and three of my four novels are currently optioned for film.
Iâve also become the humor columnist for Seasons magazine and an advice columnist for Slate magazine. Iâve published pieces regularly in Parents magazine
The Connecticut Society of Professional Journalists has awarded me first prize in the opinion/humor writing category in 2015, 2016, 2017, and 2019. Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend was the 2014 Dolly Gray Award winner and was a finalist for the 2017 Nutmeg Award in Connecticut.
I say all this because despite a decade of consistent work in the publishing world, hereâs the crazy thing:
I still donât feel like a real author. I still feel like at any moment, I will be discovered for the fraud that I surely am and be unceremoniously kicked out of the literary world.
Isnât that crazy?
Iâve often wonder when the day will come when I will feel like an honest-to-goodness writer and rid myself of this persistent imposter syndrome.
Then again, maybe imposter syndrome isnât such a bad thing. It keeps me on the knifeâs edge, working like hell to stay relevant, valuable, and in the game.
Still, it would be nice to answer the question, âWhat do you do for a living?â by saying âTeacher, writer, and storytellerâ and not feel like the writer part of that answer isnât real.
Either way, itâs been ten years today. A decade that I never would have dreamed possible and still seems kind of impossible when I reflect back upon it.
And wouldâve been impossible if not for the support of friends, family, editors, publicists, booksellers, Elysha, and my agent and friend, Taryn Fagerness.
Hopefully Iâll be writing a similar post in another ten years, and perhaps by then, Iâll be feeling like the honest-to-goodness author Iâve always wanted to be.
July 13, 2019
Three amusing Disney moments
When riding alongside with me on his very first ride, Peter Panâs Flight, Charlie took one look at Disneyâs remarkable animatronic characters and shouted, âRobots!â
Later that day, when riding alongside me in The Haunted House, he pointed at a group of ghosts dancing together in a ballroom and shouted âProjections!â
The boy is ruled by logic.
Yet when we watched Tinker Bell streak across the sky at the end of the Magic Kingdom fireworks show, he declared that as proof that fairies were real, as heâs always argued.
Heâs ruled by logic, but he can still be fooled.
_________________________________________
After walking by a group of rowdy teenagers, Charlie asked Elysha what it was like when she was a teenager. Then he told us that teenage boys are crazy. âSo Iâm just warning youâ.
Heâs seven years-old and is already trying to prepare us for his teenage rebellion.
_________________________________________
I overheard three very stupid people in the course of 30 minutes while walking through Animal Kingdom:
A man in the tiger exhibit asked a staff member where he could ride a tiger. When the staff member said he didnât know of any place where that was possible. the man insisted that it was true because his grandmother had once told him that she had seen people ride tigers before, and he had been looking for those tigers ever since.
A few minutes later, we walked by large monkeys walking and swinging on cables overhead. A man began arguing with his wife, claiming that the monkeys were just humans dressed in monkey suits.
About a minute after that, I overheard a young man explaining to a young lady that Disney Paris and Disney Tokyo and Disney Shanghai are so much better than Disney World, but Disneyland is the best. âYou can judge these parks by their pirates,â he explained. âGood pirates mean a good park. Disneylandâs pirates are the most committed to the roles.â
It was ten minutes of astonishment on my part. Not quite as astonishing as tigers and monkeys and little boys preparing to become rebellious teenagers, but still pretty surprising.
July 12, 2019
Best and worst of our Disney adventure
For the last seven days, my family and I have been vacationing at Disney World in Orlando, Florida. I have purposely not written about the trip until now - as we fly home - because telling the world that your cats are being fed by neighbors and visited by your friends but your house is otherwise empty isnât a great idea.
But now that I'm just a few hours from home, I have much to share.
Iâll start with this:
My least favorite part of the trip were the moments when I witnessed parents losing their patience with a child and saying something - both in tone and words - that broke my heart. Thankfully, I didnât see this too often, but I remember those unfortunate moments all too well.
My favorite parts of the trip were the many, many times when Clara and Charlie thanked us for bringing them to Disney World. The multitude of moments when they told us how happy and excited they felt and how grateful they were. Their unprompted remarks of appreciation meant the world to me.
Yes, there were amazing rides and joyous parades and a fireworks show that left both Elysha and me in tears, but not surprising, it was the words and smiles of our children that I loved most.
July 11, 2019
Perhaps we don't disagree on sleep as much as you think. Perhaps.
Yesterday I bestowed favored animal status to the giraffe, based primarily on its ability to sleep less than 30 minutes per day. People were surprised - as they often are - by how much I hate to sleep, and particularly how irritated I am every night when I need to fall asleep.
In response, many readers and friends declared their everlasting love for sleep.
Hereâs a question Iâd like to pose:
Do people really like to sleep, or do they like to fall asleep and possibly wake from sleep?
Since human beings are functionally unconscious while they sleep, the ability to take pleasure in the act of sleeping seems almost impossible. You can certainly love the subsequent feeling of renewal and vigor that sleep has on your body and mind, but when sleep is actually taking place, itâs impossible to experience pleasure in the act of sleeping because youâre not aware of your surroundings or even of your own body.
Is your arm under the pillow? Resting on your chest? Draped over a loved one? You donât know, so how is it possible to experience any kind of pleasure given that level of unconsciousness?
Do people really love to sleep, or alternatively, do people enjoy occupying a horizontal position in a space of comfort and relaxation, unburdened from the expectations of the world?
This is what they really love when they profess their love for sleep. Right? They actually adore that period of time prior to sleep and immediately following sleep. The feeling of coziness. The removal of most of the physical demands on the body. The ability to push aside responsibilities and worries for a period of time.
Isnât this - and not the unconscious state of sleep that follows - what people love?
Shouldnât people be saying:
âI love assuming a horizontal position on a soft surface, my head slightly elevated by similarly soft surfaces, while simultaneously covered by soft linens. And while in that position, I enjoy closing my eyes and pushing the worries and cares of the world aside for a time.â
Isnât this - and not the unconscious state that follows - the thing that people love?
Iâm just asking.
Though I hate to sleep and am genuinely irritated almost every night with the need to stop my life for a period of time to recharge my brain, I admittedly enjoy lying down in my soft bed (particularly if my wife is present) and assuming a position of comfort.
That part of sleep is great. No complaints whatsoever. If that part could last about 15-30 minutes, and if I could remain conscious for the entire time, I would also profess my love for sleep. The problem is that I remain conscious for less than a minute before I drift off into stupid, unproductive, unconscious sleep for a ridiculous 4-6 hours.
Yes, itâs true. I despise sleep. But lying down in a soft place beside my wife for a little while? That sounds great, just as long as I can remain conscious and therefore aware of the enjoyment that Iâm experiencing.
Isnât this how you feel, too?
Again, just asking.
July 10, 2019
New favorite animal for a damn good reason
I have a new favorite animal, people. Prior to today, my favorite animal was the badger because itâs one of the only animals (other than humans) that kills for sport.
But I mostly said that to annoy people.
My new favorite animal is the giraffe, and for good reason. I just learned that giraffes sleep less than 30 minutes per day in naps that are 2-6 minutes long at a time.
Iâm so impressed. Also envious. While the stupid humans are sleeping away a quarter to a third of their lives, giraffes are making the most of every moment.
As I climbed into bed last night, I honestly thought, âI canât wait for this stupidness to be over.â
Though I recognize the importance and need for sleep, and I take my actual sleep time very seriously, I am almost never happy about going to bed. Most of the time, Iâm genuinely irritated about the whole thing.
To sleep just 30 minutes per day would be amazing.
I also learned that giraffes only drink water every few days. Most of the water they need to survive is processed through the food they eat.
Also highly efficient and impressive.
Sadly, because they need to eat 75 pounds of food per day to survive, giraffes spend many of their waking hours eating. Then again, itâs not like they can read a book or attend a Patriots game or write a novel or catch a Broadway show, so in that case, why not eat? Eating all day isnât a bad way to spend your day given the giraffesâ limited menu of options.
Lest you think giraffes are docile and easy prey for predators, think again. Although they're more likely to run from an attack than fight back, a swift kick from one of their long legs can do serious damage toâor even killâan unlucky lion.
I like this a lot. Whenever possible, avoid a fight., But when your back is to the wall, know how to throw a good punch.
On top of that, giraffes live about 25 years in the wild and twice that age in captivity, which isnât long by human standards but is considerable in the animal world. They donât live as long as a tortoise or an African elephant or a macaw, and they arenât immortal like certain types of jellyfish, but who wants to be a jellyfish?
I believe in carefully choosing choosing your favorite animal. You need a reason to award an animal that coveted most favorite status. Iâve always loved giraffes, and my heart always leaps when I see them in zoos, and now I know why.
Not only are they beautiful, but they are an animal who shares my philosophy of making every moment count by achieving maximum efficiency in all things.
July 9, 2019
Sid from Toy Story was a completely normal person.
I know the film is 24 years old, but Iâm still annoyed:
Sid, Andyâs next door neighbor, was portrayed as the antagonist in Toy Story simply because he liked to take toys apart and reassemble them in new and creative ways.
Yes, perhaps if you are a toy, this is not a good thing, but should we expect Sid to be aware that his toys might be secretly sentient, filled with hopes and fear?
Of course not. Yet at the end of the film, Woody goes rogue and reveals himself to be alive. Not only does he speak to Sid, but he gets dark and creepy while doing so, scaring the bejesus out of this poor kid.
Itâs awful.
As a child, I would throw my toys out of the window of my second floor bedroom onto the gravel driveway to determine which would break. Was I evil or even wrong to wonder if my Sho-Gun Warrior could survive a 15 foot plunge to the Earth?
My sibling and I would take great pleasure in jamming Weebles into the crack between the door and the wall then slamming the door so that the Weebles would explode into dozens of pieces.
Did this make us rotten children or simply curious kids who liked to experiment on the toys we had stopped playing with long ago?
Sid was a normal child with a creative, experimental mind. Yes, he tormented his sister, but what brother doesnât? Yes, he was apparently kicked out of summer camp, but many creative people throughout history were misunderstood. Pixar tries like hell to make Sid look bad with a skull on his tee-shirt, but this is an ordinary kid who likes to makes things, take things apart, and even occasionally blow things up.
Normal.
Unless of course youâre being compared to stick-in-the-mud rule-follower Andy.
Woodyâs âPlay niceâ warning to Sid at the end of the film was cruel and unnecessary. When we see Sid again in Toy Story 3, he is listening to heavy metal music, working as a garbage man.
Nothing wrong with being a garbage man (my father worked as a garbage man for a time), but itâs not exactly a cinematic ending for this poor boy, who is probably tormented for the rest of his life with the knowledge that at least one toy in this world (and probably others) are alive, sentient, and mean.
Sid isnât the bad guy here. Pixar is the real bad guy for portraying a spirited, creative boy as a villain.
July 8, 2019
Speak Up Storytelling: Matthew DIcks
On episode #57 of the Speak Up Storytelling podcast, I talk storytelling!
In our followup segment, I congratulate listeners on recent successes at The Moth.
Next we listen to my story about a difficult medical decision and what it revealed about his marriage to Elysha.
Amongst the many things discussed includes:
Identifying the crux of the story
"Why do we do the things we do?"
Finding the beginning of a story by centering on the end
"But" statements to break into moments of humor
Tonality
Truth in storytelling
Ending a story effectively (and not stupidly)
LINKS
Purchase Storyworthy: Engage, Teach, Persuade, and Change Your Life Through the Power of Storytelling
Homework for Life: https://bit.ly/2f9ZPne
Matthew Dicks's website: http://www.matthewdicks.com
Matthew Dicks's YouTube channel:
https://www.youtube.com/matthewjohndicks
Subscribe to Matthew Dicks's weekly newsletter:
http://www.matthewdicks.com/matthewdicks-subscribe
Subscribe to the Speak Up newsletter:
http://www.matthewdicks.com/subscribe-speak-up
July 7, 2019
Stand up, damn it.
This shouldnât need to be said, but based upon recent experience, it apparently needs to be said:
If youâre a healthy adult sitting on a bus or subway, and there a small child in your vicinity who does not have a seat, stand up and offer your seat to the kid.
How any adult can sit and watch a small child cling to a pole or to his parentâs leg as a bus or train lurches around a bend is beyond me.
Last night I watched a teenage girl offer her seat to Charlie while a bunch of grown-ass men and women remained comfortably seated around us.
I was furious. Elysha was apoplectic.
Iâm also inclined to offer my seat to a woman in these situations, but I also know that doing so implies that she needs a seat more than I do, which is almost always a sexist thing to think. After all, Iâve been arguing for years that women should be eligible for the military draft based upon my sincere belief that they are just as capable as men, yet something inside me always wants to offer my seat to a lady.
I avoid this internal struggle but always standing. My default position on any bus or train is to stand unless there is an empty seat after leaving the station.
If youâre a young, healthy adult, maybe you could adopt a similar default position.
But at the very least, make sure all the small children have seats. Otherwise Elysha and I will spend the entire trip attempting to publicly shame you by repeatedly telling our children - in voices slightly louder than necessary - to âHold on tight!â and âBe carefulâ and âWe know this is hard, but weâll be there soon!â
The best part:
We did this both simultaneously and absent any planning. Our instincts - and hatred for these grown-ass seated adults - was the same.
