Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 332

The very best way to earn a dollar

I have a friend who is a successful attorney. He earns an excellent living. By all standards, he is doing very well for himself and his family.

He is also a screenwriter. He has yet to sell a screenplay, but he has an agent, a manager, and a successful writing partner. He has been paid to work on various film-related projects in the past.

In short, he has potential. He writes well. He's producing screenplays. Putting in the time. Doing the work. Waiting for his big break. 

Last week he was hired to write the trailer for an upcoming film. He earned $500 for his efforts.

Writing trailers is not exactly screenwriting. It's not even creative writing. It's more like creatively writing about someone else's creative writing. 

And $500 is not much of a paycheck. In comparison to his salary as an attorney, it's not a lot of money at all. It's not a small amount of money, but it's not going to make or break his holiday season.

But when I spoke to him about the job, he said, "It's the best $500 I've made in a long time."

I understood perfectly. As much money as I might make as a teacher or public speaker or wedding DJ or tutor or life coach or minister, there is no better way to earn a dollar than to be paid for something you made up in your head.  

I'll say it again:

There is no better way to earn a dollar than to be paid for something you made up in your head.  

The secret to being brave - revealed by a six year-old girl

I took the kids to McDonald's on Thanksgiving morning, thinking that this would be a win-win-win for the entire family.

I would eat an Egg McMuffin and get some work done.The kids would eat pancakes and play in the PlayPlace.Elysha would have some time at home alone to read and relax.

And for a while, it looked like things would work out well.

We left Elysha at home with a new book and some coffee. 
I ate my customary breakfast.
Clara and Charlie enjoyed some pancakes. Then they went off to play while I continued work on my latest novel. 

About 15 minutes into my work, I heard Charlie call for help. I waited, hoping that Clara would solve the problem or the problem would go away (as it often does), but when his calls for help increased in volume and intensity, I went to check what was wrong.

I found Charlie about 25 feet off the ground, trapped in a plastic tube connected to the structure by netting on both sides. He had climbed higher than ever before, crossed the netting to reach the plastic tube, but was now trapped, afraid to cross back over. Adding to his fear was the instability of the section of tube in which he was stuck. Every time he moved, it shifted left and right, causing him to freeze in place and cry. 

It would be extremely difficult for me to climb to him, and there was a sign indicating that the structure was not built to hold an adult's weight. So I asked Clara to retrieve him, which would've meant climbing higher than she had ever climbed before. 

Clara refused, retreating to a corner and sucking her thumb, leaving me without any options. I begged, pleaded, cajoled, demanded, insisted, encouraged, and threatened Charlie for about 20 minutes before Clara finally agreed to climb up and help. She went as far as the netting - a monumental feat for her - but refused to cross over to his tube. From about five feet away, she encouraged Charlie to crawl over to her, reaching her hand across the span and asking him to meet her halfway. 

It was while she was trying to coax him across the net that something magical happened. 

She said, "Charlie, whisper to yourself what you love most, and that's how you can be brave. That's what I do."

Tears welled up in my eyes. My daughter's wisdom astounded me. And I suddenly found myself wondering when she last needed to be brave. Had I missed it? Was I letting her down? Failing to protect her? Was she afraid more often than I thought? 

I felt like I was trapped in a Neil Gaiman novel. Danger and mystery and brilliant words of wisdom swirled around me. 

Clara repeated her advice. "Whisper to yourself what you love most, and that's how you can be brave. Do it, Charlie."

Then he did. In a tiny, high-pitched whisper, I heard him say, "Mommy. Mommy. Mommy."

You can't win them all.

Then he moved. Crawled toward the netting.  The tube shifted again, causing him to freeze and resume his cries of terror. 

Eventually I had to climb through the structure and across the net to scoop up my boy, who was, to his credit, very appreciative. Lots of hugs and kisses and "Thank you, Daddy" and "I love you, Daddy."

I didn't get a lot of work done, and I ended up with skinned knees and a bump on the head, but it was well worth it. 

Today I give thanks for something intangible and improbable and incredibly powerful

On this Thanksgiving, I am grateful for possibility.

Perhaps I will always be a mid-list author who publishes a novel every year or two.
A storyteller and speaker who takes the stage now and again to entertain audiences.
A screenwriter and playwright who is never paid very much for his craft. 
A very small business owner. 

And if that is the case, I will be a happy man.

I am doing what I love.

I have often said that I would like to someday write for a living and teach for pleasure, and while I am certainly not ready or able to give up my teaching salary, I am closer to this dream than I ever thought imaginable.

But with every book and every story and every screenplay and every musical comes the possibility for greater success. A larger readership. A broader fan base. An opportunity for more prolific career. The dream of a best seller.

In short, possibility.

I was standing in the copy room at my school on a Friday about ten years ago, complaining about the wedding that I had to minister and DJ the next day. A group of friends and colleagues were standing alongside me, listening to me complain.

Later on that day, one of my wiser and kinder colleagues took me aside and said this to me (paraphrased as best as I can recall):

“There’s nothing wrong with you complaining about the wedding you have to work this weekend, but please don’t forget how lucky you are, too. Most of the people in this school and everywhere else receive a paycheck every week and that’s it. They have no other way to earn money. They will get their tiny raises every year, but that’s it. Probably forever. Unless they want to go to work on the weekend as a waitress or a cashier or maybe pick up a tutoring job, most people are stuck with the same salary for the rest of their lives.

You own a DJ company, and I know it’s hard work, but I also know how much a wedding DJ can make in one day. It’s a lot of money for a single day of work, and you spend that day with your best friend. It can’t be that bad, or you wouldn’t be doing it. It takes most people months to save that kind of money. And you write books. I don’t know how much you make off them, but it’s probably a lot in the eyes of the people working here. And you write musicals with Andy, and you write for magazines and the newspaper. And your books might be made into movies someday. You have a lot going on.

Just don’t forget how lucky you are to have these other ways to earn money for your family. And you’re doing what you love. Not everyone is so lucky, so just be careful about who you’re complaining to. Some people might wish that they were doing even some of the things you do. ”

That conversation has remained in my heart and mind, and I often think about it on days like today.

It is unlikely that I will be wealthy someday, but thanks to all of my creative and business pursuits, the possibility exists. As improbable as it may be, my life is filled with many unlikely ways of making my fortune. Retire young. Travel the world. Give my family everything they want. All while doing the things I love. 

Writing. Speaking. Entertaining. Teaching. 

It is unlikely that any of these pursuits will make me a fortune, and that's okay. I love my job and my students, and I feel incredibly lucky about the life I lead.

But I feel blessed with the ability to genuinely hope for so much more when so many cannot.

My colleague and friend was right. Possibility is a great thing. I am thankful for a life filled with it on this day.

If you don't have possibility in your life, why not start today? I'm constantly advising my friends to find something they love and try to find a way to earn money doing it.

Don't quit your day job, but invest just five hours a week pursuing your dream. If you're lucky, you may find yourself with a new and more exciting career someday, or maybe just an additional income stream doing something you love. 

My visit to Northshire Bookstore: Cakes designed to look like books and a mysterious comment left unexplained

A couple weeks ago I visited Northshire Bookstore in Manchester Center, Vermont, as a part of my recent book tour for The Perfect Comeback of Caroline Jacobs.

Northshire is one of my favorite bookstores in the world. My wife and I take an annual pilgrimage to Northshire in the spring and always love our weekend spent in the bookstore. They certainly didn't disappoint this time around, either. I spoke to a warm and engaging audience, and after my talk, there was a cake auction to benefit children who need books in the home. 

Cakes were designed to represent books. Here are what a few looked like:

After the talk, I was approached by a woman who said, "You are a lesson in contradiction, sir."

Before I could ask her what she meant, she was gone. But she bought two of my novels on the way out, so I'll assume it wasn't meant to be too bad. 

Northshire is also the only bookstore that I have visited that has a special case for the pens that authors use to sign books. I like it. Made me feel very important despite my actual import. 

A theory on the funniness of people who routinely interrupt others

Here's what I know:

Humor requires patience. The punch line is almost always the last thing to be said, and yet so many people want to say it first. They can't wait to get to the funny part, even though it's the waiting and the building that will make it funny. 

When I describe my living circumstances in my early twenties, I say it like this:

"I lived with a family of Jehovah's Witnesses in a converted pantry off the kitchen with a guy named Rick who spoke in tongues in his sleep and the family's indoor pet goat."

A bad storyteller - or an unfunny person - always wants to get to the goat as soon as possible (because it's the funniest part) rather than building to it. They say the funny part first and then fill in the rest of the details when they no longer serve to increase the humor.    

I hear this all the time. Both in regular conversation as well as storytelling onstage. 

Considering all this, here is what I suspect:

People who make it a habit of interrupting other people are the least funny people I know. These are people who can't wait to speak. Can't wait to insert their voice into the conversation. Can't wait even a second to interject.

These are people who can't wait on a punchline.

But I'm not sure. It's just a theory. 

Thoughts?

Some days are just a "pants on your head" kind of day

How I Let Down My Forever Friend

I wrote a piece about my high school sweetheart for the Hartford Courant entitled "How I Let Down My Forever Friend."

It published today.

An excellent explanation of Syria's war

I thought I understood the events in Syria, but it turns out that they were more nuanced and complicated than I had originally expected.

This video explains things succinctly and clearly. 

Millennials are living at home in greater numbers than ever before. Are they just overly indulged wimps?

You may have heard that millennials are living at home more than young people in previous generations. In 2014, the number of young women living with their parents eclipsed their counterparts in 1940, and last year 43% of young men were living at home, which is the highest rate since 1940.

I'm trying to maintain an open mind about the economic struggles of millennials and not expand my own anecdotal experiences beyond reasonable boundaries, but I can't help but wonder if it's not high expectations rather than economic struggle that is keeping these people at home longer.

Do millennials expect more, and as a result, are less willing to live in substandard circumstances and struggle to survive?

When I think about how my friends and I lived during our post high school and college years, the one thing that marks that time is struggle.

Tiny, cruddy apartmentsCheap, carbohydrate-laden foodMultiple roommatesExceptionally long working hours (often working two or three jobs to make ends meet)Few amenities.

We slept on floors and in closets. We drove dilapidated vehicles. We hung out in parking lots. We took dates to pizza places. It was not uncommon to have our electricity shut off from time to time. 

And this wasn't the case for just me. The majority of people who I was growing up with after high school and college lived this way.

Again, perhaps my scope is limited, but as a young people, we preferred to eat elbow macaroni, sleep on floors, and watch black-and-white televisions rather than living with our parents.     

Are millennials simply unwilling to endure such hardships given the way that the overly-indulged way that so many were raised, or are the economic realities of today truly more debilitating than my generation?

An honest question. 

Stop saying that women are beautiful.

I was speaking at a conference recently. There were seven speakers in all - five women and two men. Each of us was introduced prior to our talk by one of the organizers.

During the introductions of three of the five female speakers, the organizer mentioned the woman's physical appearance.

"... the brilliant and beautiful..."

"... not only is she beautiful, but she is a published expert in her field..."  

"... a beautiful woman with a bold vision..."

Pay attention to the way women are introduced at events like this in the future. Their physical appearance is often mentioned as a part of the introduction, and almost always by other women.

Conversely, men's physical appearance is never mentioned. I have been introduced hundreds of times prior to a speech, story, or talk, and my physical appearance has never been included in the list of accolades or accomplishments. 

This needs to stop, for a few reasons:

It's inappropriate. Physical appearance is irrelevant and should not be touted as a means of introducing a speaker. Doing so implies that beauty is just as important as the woman's professional accomplishments or academic pedigree. The last thing anyone should be talking about is what a woman looks like prior to listening to her speak.    When you mention the beauty of one female speaker but fail to do so for another female speaker (or even a male speaker), you risk hurting the feelings or offending the speakers whose physical appearance was unmentioned. I couldn't help but wonder if the two women whose physical appearance was not mentioned at that recent conference noticed the difference in introductory content. It was also interesting to note that the two women whose beauty was not mentioned were African American, while the other three were white.   Mentioning a woman's physical appearance during an introduction is sexist. The notion that we would include female appearance but not male appearance in an introduction implies that a woman's appearance is an important and relevant part of her value to society.   

Even if you can't agree with these first three reasons (and I honestly can't imagine any sane person not), here is one based solely on logic:

Unless the audience is comprised of blind people, mentioning that a woman is beautiful before she takes the stage is simply stating the obvious. The audience members are about to see the woman, and her beauty will therefore be apparent. From a logical standpoint, mentioning the physical appearance of a speaker is redundant and meaningless, because that beauty is about to take center stage.

This may seem like a small thing to you, but it is not. The perpetuation of the notion that a woman's physical appearance is an important part of her value and worth to society must be stopped whenever possible. This constant, public acknowledgement of the importance of a woman's appearance seems innocent enough, but it represents and reinforces the sexist, shallow, and stupid notions that we have about what is important in our culture. 

If you're introducing a female speaker, say nothing about her appearance. 

If you're a woman who is about to be introduced, make a point of asking that your physical appearance not be mentioned as a part of your introduction.

End this stupidity today.