Zachary Katz-Stein's Blog, page 6

March 2015

Highlights:

Edited almost the entire book Memoirs of a Deathwalker, then sent it to a thematic expert to be read.
Sporadically updated social media outlets
Was not very good about keeping this day-by-day list up to date – partially through neglect, but also because some several technical glitches.
However, I did write and publish one fairly long blog article.

Day-By-Day:

Sunday, Nothing.
Monday, posted updates to Facebook and Twitter, including the February Progress Report, signed up for the Antioch Writer’s Workshop over the summer.
Tuesday, spent time on Goodreads groups (I feel like they have a lot of potential), sent an email to a possible Milwaukee Zoo contact, updated Facebook and Twitter,
Wednesday, I had something written for this day, but wordpress didn’t save it and now there’s no way I can remember!
Thursday, I had something written for this day, but wordpress didn’t save it and now there’s no way I can remember!
Friday, I had something written for this day, but wordpress didn’t save it and now there’s no way I can remember!
Saturday, Day off.
Sunday,  I had something written for this day, but wordpress didn’t save it and now there’s no way I can remember!
Monday, I had something written for this day, but wordpress didn’t save it and now there’s no way I can remember!
Tuesday, I had something written for this day, but wordpress didn’t save it and now there’s no way I can remember!
Wednesday, I had something written for this day, but wordpress didn’t save it and now there’s no way I can remember!
Thursday, I had something written for this day, but wordpress didn’t save it and now there’s no way I can remember!
Friday, This is a summery for the missing week of work that I lost through negligence, or technical error, depending on how generously you want to interpret the loss of data. I’ve worked through Chapter 27 in Memoirs of a Deathwalker – feeling pretty good about it too. I’ve been fairly consistent on Twitter, less so on Facebook and Goodreads, but some work has been done there too. I reached out to Stormonth Elementary School in Fox Point and they aren’t interested in a reading – schedules are already too tightly packed.
Saturday, Day off.
Sunday, Nothing.
Monday, Sent A Study In Cutlets to a fellow author who agreed to review it, worked on Twitter and Facebook, emailed my Kenyon class representitive with the news of ASIC’s release, finished reading Memoirs of a Deathwalker,
Tuesday, Nothing.
Wednesday, Made a few broad edits to Memoirs of a Deathwalker, then sent it to another beta reader, emailed beta readers for The Sign of Fur, that I would like written feedback by the end of March.
Thursday, Spent time on Twitter, sent an email to a local expo asking how to get a table, reached out to a local bookstore to see if they’d carry my books (nope).
Friday, Research for next Sherlock Bones book.
Saturday, Day off (from novels, I still subbed two classes in Kohler).
Sunday, Nothing.
Monday, Recovering from very busy work weekend.
Tuesday, Updated Twitter and Facebook.
Wednesday, I’m taking a bit of a break since I seem to be between projects while waiting for feedback from beta readers.
Thursday, Break.
Friday, Break.
Saturday, Break.
Sunday, Break.
Monday, Updated Twitter and Facebook.
Tuesday, Updated Twitter and Facebook.

Responsibility and the Yoga Classroom

During teacher training, my fellow trainees and I were treated to several philosophical lectures. These lectures ranged from the origins of yoga to brief overviews of related branches of thought, like Ayurveda. One image from these lectures stands out in my memory.

It’s a flower, drawn (poorly) in marker on a white board. At the base of the flower sits the Vedas, the Upanishads form the stem, and each petal contains the name of a philosophical discipline: Yoga, Ayurveda, Buddhism, Jainism, Hinduism.

The image is so powerful because it expresses a complicated idea clearly and accurately. It would be a mistake to conflate these petals as each are distinct entities, yet they are also undeniably connected by sharing a common root and stem.

Similarly, the issues I’d like to discuss in this essay are varied. Thoughts, observations, and stories have been percolating in the back of my mind for so long, that they can no longer be expressed as a clear X vs Y issue (as my essays often do for simplicity). Instead, I’m going to weave together a discussion about several topics that share a common root: responsibility in the yoga classroom.

Who is responsible in a yoga classroom, and what are they responsible for?

In the yoga teaching community there seems to be a divide between those who believe the teacher is responsible for what goes on in the classroom and those who believe the student is, or should be, in charge.

Before continuing, it should be stated that both sides (or, more accurately, everyone on this spectrum) think it’s the teachers job to keep students safe. Knees passing ankles or collapsing in, hyper-extended joints, and spine protection is on ever teacher’s mind.

However, there is definite disagreement about what exactly constitutes a “safe practice.”

For example, I recently read an article in Yoga International called, “King and Queen No More? Headstand, Shoulderstand, and the Yoga of Experience and Evidence.” This article describes a studio in which students are asked not to practice headstand or shoulderstand (even on their own) because the senior teachers/studio owners believe it’s very difficult to practice safely and don’t want their students to do any long term damage to themselves by accident.

Here, the studio is taking complete responsibility for student safety. They’ve identified poses where the benefits don’t justify the long term risks, and banned them.

My initial reaction was one of shock and dismay. After all, many students find these inversions intensely liberating – an experience that “feet up the wall” just doesn’t provide. However, after pausing for a moment to consider, it does make some sense. These are poses where damage may be dealt subtly over time. The student, or their teachers, might not notice that the posture is unsafe for years and by then it could be too late.

Echoing this position are the many articles about yoga teachers being inadequately trained, injuring their students, and using the phrase “students should be listening to their own bodies” as an excuse to shrug off responsibility.

There is absolutely some truth in this assertion. I’m certain there are teachers who teach unsafely and say exactly that, which makes believing in student responsibility and the centrality of student experience so much harder to do. Yet, that’s exactly what I believe.

I was trained in a school of thought that describes asanas as “inhabited experiences,” not shapes in space. Alignment, therefore, is secondary to intention, the feeling a student gets when in the pose (as long as the posture is safe).

I strongly believe in allowing my students to have their own experiences – whatever shows up for them that day. As a senior teacher once put it to me, “Don’t be a sage on a stage, but a guide on the side.”

Let’s leave this petal alone for a moment.

We’ll circle back to it after examining it’s close relative: is a yoga teacher responsible for each student, or for the class as a whole?

Recently, a yoga teacher friend of mine, who shall remain nameless, told me a story that might shed some light on this question.

She was taking class at a relatively local studio, though not one where she taught. Now, this friend of mine has a very strong practice. She floats in and out of handstands in her vinyasas, and will generally take any amplification offered. On that day, however, after a few floating vinyasas, the teacher laid a hand on her shoulder and whispered. “Sometimes, less is more.”

I believe she also said something to the effect of, “please stop floating because it’s distracting the other students.” I can’t remember if she actually said it, or if it was just heavily implied. Either way, that’s what my friend heard, and definitely what the two talked about after class.

My friend was floored (probably not literally, but definitely figuratively). She is firmly affixed in the teaching philosophy that believes every student should do their own thing, listening to their own “inner teacher,” and generally try to ignore what everyone else in the room is doing.

(Obviously, this dictum doesn’t include students who completely ignore the teacher and go off on their own sequence, which happens, and is universally considered extremely rude.)

In this philosophy, however, a student adding little embellishes to a sequence is not only allowable, it’s positively encouraged. Especially, if you’re not in the front of the room where other students really might be distracted (and she wasn’t).

Because I share similar teaching roots with my friend, her story shocked me. I would never dream of saying such a thing to a student for fear of exactly what happened – she was thrown completely out of her practice, and went through the rest of class in a kind of daze.

Yet, in the context of our discussion, it’s easy to attribute several positive intentions to the teacher. As far as I know, the teacher didn’t know my friend, so although it’s clear from my friend’s practice that she’s very controlled, the teacher might, justifiably, be concerned for her safety.

A firm believer in “less is more” would see the ostentatious floating forward and back as unnecessary and unsafe.

At the same time, she is taking responsibility for the rest of the class’s experience. Wanting everyone to feel comfortable and welcome is certainly an impulse I understand.

In fact, in my own teaching, I frequently find myself “teaching to the lowest common denominator.” I mean, I set my class at an appropriate level for the least experienced person in the room.

Sure, I offer variations to make things a little more challenging for the veterans, but I will also skip challenging poses or sequences if I think I have students in the room who just won’t be able to do them.

Now, you might think this contradicts my earlier assertion that students should be responsible for their own practice, and, to some degree, it does. If I were at the furthest extreme of that spectrum I would shrug and say, “If they don’t want to do something, they can take child’s pose.” Some teachers would probably even argue that I’m doing my new students a disservice by assuming they won’t be able to do something. After all, you never know until you try, right?

I think both of these are valid points. Yet, I also think it’s important to cater a little more to new students.

In the articles that accuse teachers of neglecting their responsibility, the author will frequently point out that new students are not used to “listening to their body” – at least not in the way yoga asks them to. Coming from our “no pain, no gain” exercise culture, it’s very easy for new students to push themselves into an injury.

However, here’s why I don’t think teaching to the least skilled practitioner in the room doesn’t contradict my belief that student’s should be in charge of their own experience: I trust my students – especially my veterans – to have a good practice.

In an old article called, The Danger of Teacher Proof Students, I talk about how some students are going to do well no matter what I do. I’d like to revise that. I think most students are going to have a good practice no matter what I do.

The yoga asanas are amazing. They will ensure my students get what they need.

All I do is provide a pattern for my students to fill out with their own practices.

I also provide a safety net for those who need it, which tend to be the new students.

So, who’s responsible in a yoga classroom?

The only answer that makes sense to me is: everyone.

Like the form of class itself, the question of responsibility is a dialogue between the students and the teacher.

February 2015

Highlights:

Published A Study In Cutlets!
Sold about 30 copies of the above!
Had a great conversation with a writing professor that added focus to my efforts
Set aside work on The Exile for a time, which feels incredibly freeing

Day-by-Day: 

Sunday, Nothing.
Monday, officially published A Study In Cutlets, Ordered copies of same, published January progress report, created February report (including days of the week to look for trends in productivity, or lack thereof), edited to ebook formatted version of ASIC then sent it back to formatter, edited the first chapter of The Sign of Fur, submitted A Study In Cutlets kindle edition for review (should be available in 12-48 hours).
Tuesday, emailed Createspace to fix the thumbnail for A Study In Cutlets print edition (and to merge the two versions), edited chapter 2 of The Sign of Fur, finally finished Facebook author page, heard back from Createspace and issues should be fixed in 3-5 business days.
Wednesday, updated author Facebook page with publication dates and first official post, spent a few minutes on twitter replying, retweeting, and unfollowing (trying to get down to 400 followers I actually care about so I can stand to read my home feed), edited chapter 3 in The Sign of Fur, wrote 524 words in The Exile, emailed a Milwaukee bookstore about the possibility of setting up a reading.
Thursday, updated Facebook page with a question to garner engagement (hopefully), spent some time on twitter, edited chapter 4 in The Sign of Fur (which was particularly long and needed a fair amount of work).
Friday, corresponded with bookstore. No go on a reading there.
Saturday, Nothing.
Sunday, Nothing.
Monday, posted to Facebook author page and spent a few minutes on Twitter promoting A Study In Cutlets, edited chapter 5 in The Sign of Fur.
Tuesday, passed 78,000 words in The Exile, updated Facebook page, time spent on Twitter, replied to correspondence (including following up on an issue with Createspace), edited chapter 6 in The Sign of Fur,
Wednesday, updated Facebook author page, spent a minute or two on Twitter, edited chapter 7 in The Sign of Fur,
Thursday, Nothing.
Friday, Nothing.
Saturday, reached out to a writing instructor for advice and guidance.
Sunday, edited chapter 8 in The Sign of Fur.
Monday, edited chapters 9-11 in The Sign of Fur, sent it to beta readers, set aside The Exile for immediate future, started work revising Memoirs of a Deathwalker, had an illuminating conversation with Rebecca Morean.
Tuesday, read over and made minor edits to chapters 3-6 in Memoirs of a Deathwalker, bought a book bag so I can always carry copies of my books with me, and started creating a detailed marketing plan for the next year.
Wednesday, finished detailed marketing plan, printed it, started compiling a list of local elementary schools, and created a sign I can put up when working in public places.
Thursday, Nothing.
Friday, finally paid state taxes for Yellow Springs Street Fair – huge weight off my mind.
Saturday, serendipitous sold 5 books to one of the yoga studios I work for, and was offered a place to have a book reading!
Sunday, Nothing.
Monday, sent a different format of The Sign of Fur to a beta reader, added a subscription button to blog (finally), published a “donations” page – though it could still use a little work, posted to Facebook and Twitter, tested out the “self-publishing author” sign…didn’t work today, more tests are needed, read over chapter 7-8 in Memoirs of a Deathwalker.
Tuesday, updated Facebook and Twitter, read some good writing articles, compiled a list of possible blog articles, fixed a date for my YogaOne book reading: April 12th! Signed up for a free promotion being run by an author friend (“Let’s Make a Movie” blog post series on Write Like A Wizard).
Wednesday, sent Meg my author photo, book cover photo, and author blurb for book reading flyer, read over chapters 9-11 in Memoirs of a Deathwalker.
Thursday, applied for membership in the Indie Author Network, added A Study In Cutlets to Goodreads, sent out a review request for same on Goodreads, updated Twitter and Facebook, updated price on ASIC to $.99 on Kindle – figuring distribution is far more important than making money on this first book,
Friday, It’s my birthday, so nothing!
Saturday, Although Saturday is generally a day off, the my Indie Author Network Page went live, so I promoted it a bit.

 

 

 

 

 

Why We Write

“Writers start writing either because they see something in print and think, ‘if that got published I could get published!’ or they see something so amazing they say I want to be able to write like that.”

Roughly quoted from memory, the above is Orson Scott Card talking about why writers first devote themselves to the craft. Although Orson Scott Card told many people that he started writing for the first reason, it was actually Isaac Asimov’s Foundation Trilogy that convinced him to devote himself to writing. He wanted to make people feel the way that series made him feel.

I think most writers have both of these experiences – more than once in fact.

I also think we can experience both responses to the same book, or series. For example, I can trace my first book, The Grey Heir, to my love of Christopher Paolini’s Eragon. As an eighth grader, I devoured that book. It was one of the first that I binge read, finishing it in two blissful days.

Yet, as the series went on, I grew older, more discerning, and (quite probably) more snobbish. I started finding fault with what I felt were needless tangents and (what I saw as) clunky prose.

I thought, “If that book was published and became enormously successful, mine can too.”

In a way, I still believe that. I still think that my book has some merit and certainly has the potential to strike the same chord in its intended audience that Eragon struck in me. At the same time, however, I believe it’s equally open to the pitfalls that attend sequels, which is one of the reasons I still haven’t finished the second book in that series even though I’ve written several other novels in the interim.

As much as I still admire Paolini as a cool guy, and a supporter of new writers, I needed new inspiration.

I found that inspiration in Brandon Sanderson’s series The Stormlight Archive, which I view as a masterwork of epic fantasy.

There are many things to admire about Sanderson’s work, from his fresh, incredibly visioned fantasy world, to the quality of his prose and characters. However, what really distinguishes Sanderson’s world, at least for me, is his incorporation of philosophy.

In The Stormlight Archive, Sanderson describes several ancient orders of knights, known collectively as The Knights Radiant, who lived by different ideals. The first ideal, however, was the same for all the orders:

Life before death; Strength before weakness; Journey before destination

Let’s take these one at a time.

Life before death

This could be a simple statement of fact, life comes before death, or an injunction to really live before you die. Seems like a good, if bumper sticker worthy, piece of advice.

Strength before weakness

This seems like fairly standard chivalric fantasy fair – defend those who cannot defend themselves!

Journey before destination

Now this is where I really geek out. The characters discuss what this means throughout the two books available thus far at length, but, essentially, it means that everyone dies eventually, so the destination is set, what really matters is the journey (ie how you live your life).

How F-ing amazing is that!?!? To have an this question of journey vs. destination so central to the book, to have characters debate whether worthy goals are worth unsavory means in those terms, to have an entire marshal order founded around something so…Buddhist.

It just blows my mind.

It invites questions and analysis.

It makes me want to write.

Before reading this series I was having trouble with the second book in my series, The Exile. I wrote nearly an entire first draft before realizing that I didn’t really like it. It felt like I was forcing my characters through the plot I’d already designed instead of allowing things to occur in a way that made sense. Thus they had no real impetus.

Now, I think I’m going to explore what it would be like if a mage, my protagonist, decided he didn’t want to kill people anymore. He will still be hunted, still facing a world set against magic, but I want to write a fantasy book that actually values life.

What would that look like?

Is it ethical to leave a world in the thrall of an absolute, unjust authority?

Is non-violent (or at least non-lethal) resistance possible in this kind of fantasy world?

These are question that are worth exploring, and THAT, I think, is why we write.

January 2015

Highlights:

Made A Study In Cutlets fit for publication
Worked on The Exile and a little on The Sign of Fur
Got back in the habit of writing blog articles

Day-by-day:

1) Nothing.

2) Nothing.

3) Nothing.

4) Spent one hour editing The Sign of Fur

5) Edited sticky post, started progress report, wrote 213 words in The Exile

6) Created intro text for Progress Reports tab, created and published the “Books” tab, sent emails to cover artist and kindle formatter, wrote 714 words in The Exile

7) Took a new author photo for A Study In Cutlets, uploaded the interior file to createspace, sent an email to cover artist asking for very minor proportions fixes, sent file to ebook formatter, moved files from backup drive back onto my computer (having reformatted my hard drive in the recent past), rote 887 words in The Exile

8) Ordered physical proof of A Study In Cutlets, wrote 820 words in The Exile

9) Nothing.

10) Nothing.



11) Waited impatiently for the proof of A Study In Cutlets, wrote a summary paragraph of what will happen in the rest of The Exile because the beginning was bothering me and now I can go back and work on it without (much) guilt

12) Edited the prologue and the first two chapters of The Exile, updated progress bars, changed site author photo, wrote “The Ethics of Adoption”

13) Edited chapters 3-6 in The Exile, did some twittering

14) Received A Study in Cutlets ebook format

15) Paid formatter

16) Received proof of A Study In Cutlets (needs work), took pictures of proof and sent them to cover artist for tweaks

17) Read chapters 1-3 of A Study In Cutlets to Hannah to ensure logical flow (a few words/sentence structure improvements required)

18) Nothing.

19) Sent follow up email to cover artist, received new cover and submitted it to Createspace

20) Cover denied by Createspace because it has spine text and is (slightly) less than 131 pages long – even though this wasn’t a problem before. Frustration

21-31) I filled these out but Word Press didn’t save them when I closed the window. Oops. Essentially, finished A Study In Cutlets

 

The Ethics of Adoption

Every time I enter a pet store with Firefly someone asks me if she is a rescue. I was so surprised the first time that I didn’t reply, “No, I got her on Craigslist,” but something rather more ominous: “Not yet.” In truth, I’m still surprised when people ask because the question seems so personal. No one has ever asked me if I was adopted.

Although I find the question surprising, the query itself isn’t irksome. No, what frustrates me is the predictable response to my reply. The questioner lets out a little, “Oh,” of disappointment, then turns away. We are no longer worthy of interest. There’s a strange devaluing of lovingly raising a baby animal implicit in this reaction that’s completely absent (or even reversed) in humans, where the majority of families are created through birth rather than adoption.

Is it because animals (and cats in particular) are over-populated, because you’re giving an animal a second chance, or because of the very real possibility the animal will be put down if it isn’t rescued?

Why isn’t adoption more celebrated in humans? Although human children aren’t put down if a suitable home isn’t found, their lives are often so challenging that they become hardened, bitter people.

I ponder these questions as I glance up from my keyboard at my astonishingly amazing girlfriend. As a baby, Hannah was adopted by two wonderful, loving individuals.

I have no doubt that if one were to describe her parents’ actions in adopting their son and then their two daughters as “selfless,” or “courageous,” they would humbly demure, saying they received much more than they gave. I’m sure they are right.

Yet, as I look back to my computer, open to the South Dakota Humane Society Website, I can’t help but think that any adoption (but particularly human adoption) requires both.

Let me back up. 

About a week ago Hannah’s parents found a five month old kitten out in the snow, pawing at the glass sliding door to their porch. The youngster didn’t have a collar or tags, so, after feeding it some turkey and warming it up, they took it to the Humane Society.

Of course they told us about her (it turned out to be a her) shortly thereafter, knowing that Hannah wanted a second cat. She’s pretty (though you wouldn’t know it from the photo on the Humane Society’s Website) and Hannah was instantly smitten.

Here we go again, I thought. Then, surprised by my reaction, Haven’t I changed?

Apparently not because I was feeling just as nervous about things that don’t really matter as when we adopted our first daughter.

However, instead of worrying about money, my primary concern at this point is sibling rivalry.

I worry that Firefly and the new kitten – already dubbed Igmu (“Cat” in Lakota) by Hannah’s father Steve, and which we promptly shortened to “Iggy” – won’t get along. I fret about fighting, worry about equal distribution of love, and that Firefly might feel she’s being replaced. For the most part it’s all fairly standard sibling stuff.

However, another branch of my concerns have to do with Iggy being a rescue. I worry that she will be too timid, hiding all the time when guests come over (as many rescues, including my grandmother’s two cats, do). I worry that no matter how much care and attention we give her we will never be able to heal the scars inflicted by her first five months of existence.

My apprehensions are not helped by the fact that Hannah and I were blessed with an incredible first born pet. Firefly is playful and snuggly in equal measure, is very quiet, is not afraid of guests, and takes immaculate care of her coat. She is essentially the perfect cat. When describing her virtues, Hannah and I often take a little credit.

“Certainly,” we acknowledge, “her natural temperament is good, but she’s also had a safe and loving home her entire life. That is why she turned out so well.”

We’ve missed that early molding time with Iggy and have no way of knowing what she’s undergone.

This, I think, is the sticking point for a lot of people in both cat and human adoption. It’s the uncertainty that makes it hard. This uncertainty is mitigated by adopting young, which gives the illusion of control.

I say “the illusion of control” because what we are ultimately afraid of is that our love will not be returned, or that it won’t be enough. We worry our love will be wasted.

But here’s the thing, the thing that I didn’t fully understand until typing these words: love is never wasted.

Love isn’t more or less worthily bestowed upon a kitten you adopted at six weeks old from Craigslist than it is a five month old feline who wandered randomly into your life.

Love is beautiful and courageous whether you are lavishing it on a child you brought into the world or on a child you found already living in it.

Nothing but NaNoWriMo Will Happen in November!

I meant to post this at the beginning of the month, but then didn’t.

If you’re wondering why no new essays have appeared, it’s because I am participating in National Novel Writing Month, which is eating up all my time and energy!

Therefore, our regularly scheduled essays will resume in December.

Have a great Thanksgiving everybody!

Zac

Purple-AsanaReflections On The Use Of Sanskrit

It was my second day of work at Yoga on the Lake when the conversation turned to using Sanskrit names for yoga poses in class.

“It can be tough,” Deb, the studio manager, acknowledged. “I had trouble with Utthita Hasta Padangustasana for a while – I kept calling it something else.” She laughed.

“Don’t worry,” Malyssa, the retail guru, said. “We don’t know what you’re saying anyway. You could say, ‘exhale into purple-asana’ and we’d just go, ‘oh what an interesting pose.'”

We all laughed and I blushed as I thought of the number of times I’d called Half Moon Pose “Articundrasana” (like the Pokemon Articuno) instead of “are-dah CHan-DRAHS-anna.”

I received my 200-hour yoga teacher certification from Yoga to the People, a studio that tries to remove as many barriers to entry for new students as possible. One of these barriers is teaching in Sanskrit, which some Western students, particularly religious students, sometimes find off putting.

As a result we spent significantly less time on memorizing Sanskrit names than on other aspects of teaching.

I strongly identify with their “yoga is for everyone” philosophy and for the past year I’ve been happy teaching my classes in English. Yet, over that time I’ve also come to see two distinct advantages that favor teaching in Sanskrit:

1) Teaching in Sanskrit Helps Connect the Class to Yoga’s Spiritual Roots – One of the things I love most about yoga is that after a practice I feel nourished in body, mind, and spirit. Sometimes I feel like an asana teacher, rather than a yoga instructor, and I worry that my students are missing out on some of the benefits that yoga can bring.

2) Sanskrit is Yoga’s Universal Language – I’ve had a few non-English speaking students in my classes. They usually do okay by watching the other students, but if I taught in Sanskrit (and they practiced with Sanskrit) they’d be able to follow along without language becoming an issue. Similarly, teaching in Sanskrit would allow my students to travel to non-English speaking countries and still practice without difficulty.

So, what do I do?

Hit the books, re-memorize all the poses, and change my teaching style?

Maybe.

I’ve thought about re-learning the Sanskrit then only using it for certain classes (like if I have a non-English speaking student). However, not only would that be confusing for my regular students, but, when it comes to yoga dialogue, if you don’t use it you lose it.

So, what do I do?

In my article Is It Okay To Want A Better Butt? I mentioned how creating a hierarchy for yoga practice makes me uncomfortable. Something about the claim that coming to your mat for one reason is more righteous than another rubs me the wrong way.

Similarly, if I do decide to change my teaching style so drastically, I feel like I’m declaring that using Sanskrit is better than teaching in English. If I made such a change I would describe it as “growing as a teacher,” strengthening the implication of hierarchy, and yet the benefits of teaching in Sanskrit listed above feel undeniable.

In yoga practice we learn how to deal with paradox.

In Warrior II we open our hips to the side of the room, which, unless you have very open hips, drags your front knee in. This isn’t safe, so we must also draw our knees toward the pinky-side edge of the foot. These are two opposite impulses we must balance.

It’s true that teaching in Sanskrit is sometimes better than teaching in English. It’s equally true that teaching in English is sometimes better than teaching in Sanskrit.

Just like dropping to your back knee in a crescent twist will allow you to twist more deeply but maintaining the lunge will provide more heat, each time we teach we must make the choice we feel will best serve our students.

So, perhaps the language of “better” might not be inappropriate in this context.

Another mantra from my teacher training was “for whom and when.”

Maybe true growth as a teacher comes in being able to do both and then recognizing when to use each style of class.

Yet, that answer feels unsatisfying because we will always have a “default style” that we teach, so a value judgement seems unavoidable.

In all honesty my thoughts on this subject aren’t completely decided.

I think I’ll just sit here, in purple-asana, and keep thinking about it.

4 Self-Publishing Lessons Learned

I first published The Grey Heir in June, 2013. Sitting here, on this cold October morning, sixteen months later, it feels like an appropriate time to reflect on what I’ve learned and share my new-found wisdom so that future generations of self-publishing authors might tread an easier path than I.

There’s only one problem: I read most of this advice in other authors’ blogs before publishing and I still didn’t listen.

Why should you listen to me when I didn’t listen to those who came before me?

Because what I’m about to share with you isn’t advice. It’s please-for-the-love-of-god-do-this-or-you-will-waste-a-lot-of-time-and-emotional-energy wisdom.

1) Pay for Editing Services

Failing to pay for editing services is the single biggest, and most common, mistake that new indie authors make.

Yes, there are several different kinds of editing services and, yes, they are all expensive (especially for young authors), but do it anyway. As an author, there’s little worse than having fans point out grammar or spelling mistakes to you.

The good news is that editing services come at several different levels, which have different price points.

Substantive Editing – examines a work as a whole to address consistency, pacing, or developmental issues. When authors bless their editors, it’s usually because of good substantive editing.
Copy Editing – corrects grammar, repetition, style, and use of jargon.
Proofreading – fixes grammatical problem like verb tense, comma placement, word usage, spelling, and capitalization.

Obviously, the first two forms of editing are the most expensive (and useful).

However, if you’re on a budget (as most self-publishing authors are), you might be able to get away with using good beta readers (at least a few of which should be fans of your genre and not members of your family), many drafts, and a proofreader.

It’s this last part that I didn’t do at first, then went back and corrected. Get a proofreader, get a proofreader, get a proofreader.

If you want to release a professional novel, this really isn’t optional. Do it.

2) Know What Goes Into Cover Creation

Cover creation involves two separate skill sets.

First, illustration – the images that actually go on your cover. I’m actually very happy with my cover art, which was done by Holly Anderson. Holly also did my character sketches, which appear every fifth chapter. I have nothing but good things to say about working with her.

Second, digital editing/typesetting – oh that’s right, your cover needs words on it doesn’t it? No problem, I thought, I took digital imaging in college. I can just do it myself!

Bad idea…

Okay, full disclosure, I did eventually create a cover that I’m happy with, but it took many drafts to get there. In fact, the only reason I have as professional a cover as I do is consultations with three different graphic designers.

All I’ll say is: if you do decide to do the digital editing yourself, consult with a professional and be prepared to do several drafts. If you have the money, it would be much easier to hire someone to do it.

3) Print Editions Are Not Optional

Many indie authors will tell you that it’s a good idea to publish in as many ways as possible. After all, why limit how your readers can access your book?

I’d like to take that one step further: don’t release your ebook until the print edition is ready.

Although some authors find great success selling their book on the interwebs, I’ve found that I really only sell books when I’m talking to someone in person and that the probability of making the sale goes up exponentially if I have a book in my hands.

As a nice side benefit (though it probably won’t feel this way at the time), releasing two versions of your book simultaneously will slow the process down.

“WHAT?” you might be screaming at your computer, “WHY WOULD I WANT TO SLOW THE PROCESS DOWN?”

Because unless you’ve hired a professional editor, cover designer, and formatter, your book probably isn’t ready for publication.

I know that’s hard to hear. I wrote a very passionate, though misguided, article on that subject (in fact I wrote two), but that doesn’t make it less true.

Releasing a book prematurely is just a bad idea because (among other things)…

4) You Won’t Be Able to Promote It

I don’t mean you will get bad reviews (though that’s certainly a possibility). I mean you literally won’t be able to bring yourself to promote your own work…or at least I couldn’t.

I couldn’t in good conscience put real effort into selling my book until I thought it was as good as I could make it (something that happened only in the last couple months).

I don’t know if you’ll have this problem, but self-promotion is hard enough when you’re selling something you’re passionate about. It’s so much harder when you aren’t 100% behind your book.

So, please just wait, save your money or raise it on GoFundMe or Kickstarter, then pay for the services you need to release a professional book.

I promise it will save you time and heart ache.

September 2014, Progress Report

Dear Readers,

Much of the work done in September had little to do with word count. I’ll have to get better about that.

Here’s what I’ve be working on:

1) I was put into contact with an old family friend, who just happens to be a professional cover designer. Since I wasn’t entirely happy with the revised cover of “A Study in Cutlets,” he agreed to redraw it for me. A preliminary drawing should be done by the end of October.

2) I also sent “A Study in Cutlets” to my old elementary school and they seemed to enjoy it quite a bit. This is very promising, as that’s exactly the age group for which I’m writing.

3) I finalized the cover for “The Grey Heir” (I know what you’re thinking, and yes, again), and then I ordered 100 copies to sell at the Yellow Springs Street Fair on October 11.

4) I made several long over-due changes to this blog. I rearranged the categories, added new, more specific (and thus more valuable) introductions, and added meta descriptions (which are important for SEO). It’s still not where I want it to be but it’s getting there.

5) I applied to a column contest, which, although I didn’t win, was so much fun I’m going to just write the column and put it up here. (It’s “The Hovering Fool”). This experience has peaked my interest in other contests. I’ll do some research and possibly apply to a few more free ones.

Well I think that was about it for last month.

Stay tuned friends, the adventure continues…