P.J. Fox's Blog, page 39

Facebook Don’t’s

Because why should Twitter have all the fun?

Seriously, if you’ve read this post then you know how I feel about Facebook.  I do however have an awesome author page that you’re welcome to come like.  Provided you aren’t a troll.  And by “troll,” I mean anyone who isn’t remotely interested in me or my books–and wait, OMG, my cat just ate an entire straw wrapper–but merely wants to let me know how much they dislike me.  Or how I got something “wrong” when I posted whatever.  Or whatever.  Yeah.  This is my website, and I’m not required to give you airtime.  Which reminds me…

Don’t use Facebook to air your dirty laundry.  This includes telling the world, via Facebook, how much you still want to be married to your husband even though he cheated on you, how much you hate your mother, or whatever.  These are valid issues that should be discussed, but not with several hundred–or, merciful heaven–several thousand.  Moreover, too many posts like this and it becomes increasingly obvious to your viewers that, rather than simply one too many martinis and unfortunate proximity to a tablet, you’re posting with an agenda.  No one wants to be part of someone else’s petty, small-minded agenda.  It’s like troll by proxy.  Which reminds me…
Don’t use Facebook to retcon your life.  We are not fooled.  I had a friend, once, who used to call me up and talk to me, for hours at a time, about how much she hated her life.  How much she hated her husband, and her children, and everything else.  But every day on Facebook, usually multiple times a day, she’d post about how “blessed” she was by God.  More blessed, she rushed to assure her friends, than they were.  She had a better husband, better children, and a nicer house.  God liked her better.
Don’t use Facebook as some kind of bizarre proxy for real life competition.  Posting it doesn’t make it true and, moreover, alienates people.  Another person I knew, via Facebook, would post literally all the time that she was in perfect shape and all the other women she knew were so fat and what was wrong with them?  I felt like commenting back, because I was too busy earning a law degree and then actually being a lawyer to spend every waking minute either beautifying or posting about it.  But, of course, that would have been rude.  There’s this bizarre double standard, on Facebook, about what is and is not okay to brag about.  Your looks and your boyfriend are good; your actual accomplishments are not.
Don’t lie.  Again, telling the internet that something is true doesn’t actually make it true.
Don’t bully people.
Don’t catfish people.  It happened to me.  Not in a romantic context but in terms of a friend who used the internet to defraud me–and several hundred other people–of a lot of money.  Because she lived out of state, I, and they, had no way of knowing that she’d faked the injury she kept posting about.  She finally admitted to me that her crowdfunding efforts weren’t being used to pay her bills, but to buy herself various treats.  There are some people who legitimately forget, for a split second they’ll later regret or even for years at a time, that there’s another person on the other side of that computer screen.  And then there are people who simply don’t care.  Facebook, based on my experience and others’, attracts more than its fair share.
Don’t confuse posting cutesy memes, or berating people with your political opinions, with activism.  Activism is getting out of the house and doing something.  If you care so much about poverty, stop sharing “poverty is bad”-themed memes and volunteer at a soup kitchen.  I can’t tell you how many “activists” I’ve met on Facebook.  If we had that many activists in real life, our world would be a far better place.
Don’t come to someone else’s page and, apropos of nothing, interpret their posting about [insert personal issue here] as an invitation for “discussion.”  A general word to the wise: criticisms of someone’s religion, children, etc will end badly.  I know I sound like a broken record, here, but if you wouldn’t say it to someone’s face then don’t say it online.  And recognize that, when someone responds in a healthy fashion–i.e. by drawing a boundary and telling you to get lost–that they don’t actually owe you anything.  It’s not “cowardly” to end an abusive conversation, or to terminate a relationship with an abusive person.  What’s cowardly is trying to convince someone that they’re “brave” by exposing themselves as a punching bag.
Don’t vaguebook.  Again, no one is fooled.
Don’t be passive-aggressive.  Which includes repeatedly posting statuses about what a miserable time you’re having and then, when people–exactly like you want them to–ask you, what’s wrong, flame them to kingdom come.  You wanted them to ask.  That’s why you told the internet all about your problems–or, rather, hinted at them with vague allusions to portents of doom–in the first place.  If you’d genuinely wanted people not to know, you would’ve taken your problems to a friend.  Or a spouse.  Or a good book, or on a run.  Not to the world’s largest repository of BS.  Attention-seeking behavior isn’t cute in toddlers; it’s especially repellent in adult men and women.
Don’t use Facebook, or any internet medium, to inform people of a loved one’s passing.  Which, yes, has happened to me.  If you think breakups over text are bad, imagine getting a Facebook message that a close relative has died.  Or, indeed, seeing it in your newsfeed.  That’s happened to me, too.

So, internet, did I miss anything?

More Twitter Don’t’s

Please don’t…

Repeatedly tell me to buy your book (or whatever).  If shilling for a product comprises more than 50% of your total tweets, I’m going to either mute or unfollow you.  Chances are, if I have sufficient powers of perception to use Twitter at all, I’ve noticed that you’re an author/widget salesman/Batman.  If you want me to get more interested in your services, be an ad for them by being witty or interesting or whatever.  “He’s so annoying and spammy, I had to run out and buy his book” said no book buyer, ever.
Auto tweet.  Dude, you’re not even trying.  If you can’t even be bothered to sit at the computer and tweet me in real time, why am I supposed to care what you have to say?  You’re obviously not interested in my response; you’re not even there.  So don’t junk up my news feed.
Troll controversial hashtags.  I can’t tell you how many trolls have, for whatever reason, responded to my #YesAllWomen tweets with creeptastic–and I mean absolutely, no holds barred, creeptastic–comments.  Apart from being completely skeeved out, I had to ask myself: what were they hoping to achieve?  Moreover, insulting me–i.e. telling me that I must be “fat,” which seems to be the worst insult that the entire internet can come up with–is hardly going to make me change my mind and be like, “yeah, those ‘men’s rights’ guys are just completely on the page.”  If your only argument is, “you’re fat,” I’m pretty sure I’m going to just go ahead and stick with logic.  But thank you.
Send me pictures of your [insert body part here].  Just…no.
Send me links to porn.  Just…NO!  ZOMG GROSS!!!  Don’t you get it?
Say something to me online that you wouldn’t say to my face.  Because…let’s face it, the only way that some online conversations could be interpreted into real life would involve a staging of the Peter v. Chicken saga from Family Guy set to Justin Bieber “music.”
Pretend to have credentials you don’t, in order to convince me to share your views.  First, pretending to be an MD, attorney, etc is at best unethical and at worst illegal.  Second, you’re not fooling anyone.  And third, even if you were to possess these qualifications, your logic would still suck so I wouldn’t care anyway.
Tell me that every single book you write, or review, is “un-put-down-able,” or a “gripping page turner.”  Really.  Are they all gripping page turners?  What are they about, anyway?  Who’s their intended audience?  ‘Cause that information might be helpful, too.  Unless you’re saying, of course, that this is the one book that every single person in the universe will find equally fascinating.  Like, say, a gripping retelling of Ulysses where he and his wife eat sandwiches instead of human flesh human flesh instead of sandwiches.  The toilet scene would have a whole new meaning.
Ask me for money.  Like, straight out: people go on Twitter and are all like, “give me money.”  Not, buy my book.  Not, donate to my Kickstarter.  Not even, like, read my blog.  Just straight out, here’s my PayPal, bro, you know nothing about me but fork it over.  Just…no!  Don’t do that.

So, other than pictures of cats, did I forget anything?

Why People Aren’t Reviewing Your Book

What follows is some extremely necessary, but potentially unwanted, advice for authors looking to gain reviews.  The same advice would apply equally, however, to those authors looking to land an agent or, really, to anyone who’s trying to communicate successfully with anyone.  I generally hate talking about etiquette, as I think the whole subject is kind of obnoxious, but this blog does primarily offer writing advice and I’ve discovered over the past few weeks (or perhaps rediscovered) that a refresher course in the basics of what not to do is probably–for a lot of aspiring writers–the best advice I could give.  So without further digression…

Prove that you know who I am.  When you email me asking me for a review, please send me an email that indicates you’ve asked me–me, the individual, as opposed to someone else–for a reason.  When you send out mass emails, I can tell.  And if you can’t bestir yourself to spend three minutes crafting an individualized email to me, why are you expecting me to spend potentially hours of my time, hours that I, as a busy professional and parent, will never get back, on you?
Be considerate.  Use a salutation.  Refer to me by name.  FOLLOW THE DIRECTIONS I’VE GIVEN.  If, for example, my listing on a review forum says that I only review books on my website, please don’t email me asking me for a review on Goodreads.  If I make a conspicuous effort to point out that I offer unbiased reviews, please don’t email me telling me that you need positive reviews.  In general, please remember that you are ASKING–not demanding.  And remember, too, that you’re asking me to do a favor for you.  Especially if you’re looking to get a positive review out of this experience, make sure you begin by making a positive impression on me.  A one line email telling me to “review your book” without telling me who YOU are, or what your book is about, or WHY you want me to review it, with no salutation or signature…if you don’t respect yourself enough to be professional, why are you asking so much of me?
Ask me what kind of file I’d like.  It costs the same (nothing) to send me a .mobi, PDF, etc.  Please do me the courtesy of asking me, since I’m being so generous as to consider reviewing your work, what kind of format would work best for me.  This is the kind of thoughtful, kind gesture that costs nothing and yet goes a long way toward showing me that you know I’m a person and that you’re asking me to make a sacrifice.

The best thing you can do, to market yourself, is to market yourself.  Not your books, and not the idea that people should review them, and not the idea that people–i.e. on Amazon–should spend money on you.  Just, as a very wise reader of mine suggests, be yourself.  I know it’s difficult because, as writers, we tend to be introverts.  The words marketing and review strike fear into our hearts, because they suggest the kind of social interaction that many of us became writers to avoid.  It’s one thing when you’re by yourself, honing your craft in your garret by the light of your desk lamp and quite another when you’re thrust into the glitz and glare that is the hungry internet.  Which is why it can be helpful to remember that the same rules you learned for real life–the same rules you learned in third grade, about do unto others–apply here as well.

Regardless of what some would have you believe, there is no “trick.”  No magic marketing algorithm.  There’s just hard work.  If you wouldn’t want to be spammed with 500 auto-tweets a day saying various versions of, “buy my book, it’s the most gripping page turner ever written,” don’t force that on other people.  If you’d want someone to use your correct name in an email, instead of cutting and pasting the same form email where they accidentally refer to you as “Dave” because they forgot to personalize it, spend that extra half a minute proofreading.  If people like how you talk, they’ll probably like how you write.

The marketing you’re doing isn’t, really, at the end of the day, telling people “read this.”  That’s what Amazon is for.  That’s what whatever ad campaign you’re running (i.e. Facebook ads) is for.  Trust me, they know you’re an author which means they know you want them to buy your books.  I’m not joking when I say, for example, that for every ten Kindle purchases I can afford to buy a pizza.  One or two jokes at my own expense on that topic is (hopefully) funny but more than that and I’m creating an uncomfortable tension with people where they feel pressured to do something that they don’t really want to do.

Besides, the best sales–like the best reviews–are unsolicited.  Ultimately, after all, you’re hoping to create a long term relationship with your readers.  Where they’re not just going to buy this book, but–if you’re spectacularly lucky–fall in love with your series as much as you have and keep reading.  If you’re fortunate enough to have a reader contact you and tell you that your book meant something, thank them sincerely and politely ask them to consider writing a review on Amazon.  And leave it at that.

The marketing you’re really doing is giving people a “try before you buy”-style taste of your writing.  Are you funny?  Sarcastic?  Do you have strong political views?  All of these attributes have, and will, make their way into your writing.  If people think, “I like this person’s sense of humor,” they’re much more apt to risk their hard-earned money on your book.  Be too much of a Johnny One Note, and all you’re going to convince anyone of is that you’re at worst boorish and at best–boring.

Do You Hate Your Own Writing?

A reader asked, “while writing your book, was it a common question to stop in the middle of it thinking, ‘this is just bad, why am I doing this?’”

Apparently, he wasn’t referring to any of my books directly, which was a relief.  Although he certainly wouldn’t be alone in loathing them; I got one particularly charming agent rejection that said basically the same thing.  But to answer his question, the answer is: this–writing, editing, publishing, marketing, the whole miserable package–really is like training for a sport.  You have to get out there and do it, every day, whether you want to or not.  You have to put aside your doubts and just push forward.  And push, and push.

An enormous component of any sport is mental; because forcing yourself to get back up and try again ranges from merely unpleasant to nigh on impossible.  There’s a Japanese proverb, fall down seven times; stand up eight.  And while that sounds empowering on paper, and is empowering if you can apply it to your life, actually doing so on a daily basis is grueling.  It requires overcoming your doubts, your fears.  Which, in turn, means confronting those doubts and fears head on.  Looking yourself in the mirror, meeting your own eyes and saying, I might be a failure.  And then going back out there to practice some more.

There’s a reason coaches talk so much about visualization, and affirmations.  They’re necessary; because, no matter how competitive your field, and how talented your competition, your own worst enemy is always you.  Which is why, as I’m fond of saying, you have to be your own first and most important convert.  Yes, you will look at your manuscript and think, this sucks.  You will want to burn it, to toss it out the window.  You’ll lie awake at night, sleepless and exhausted, wondering why you’re wasting yours and potentially everyone else’s time.  You’ll compare yourself to other writers.  You’ll periodically convince yourself that your manuscript is the worst thing ever produced, and ask yourself why you were ever so foolish as to think that anyone could enjoy even a few sentences without spontaneously combusting from boredom.

You will feel all of these things, to varying degrees, every day.  All of these things, and more.  And if you push through them, and complete your manuscript…that’s when the hard part begins.

All of your worst fears will be confirmed: by the agents who reject you, by your own friends and family who refuse to read your book.  Writing is a punishing process, but actually trying to sell your writing–and then, after you’re published, promote it to the wider world–is ten times worse.  A thousand.

Which is why, before you embark on the publishing process–whether you choose self publishing, some variant thereof, or legacy publishing–you need to make absolutely sure that you love what you’ve written.  That you’ve created something that you 100% believe in, and can stand behind.  Because if you believe in it only 99%, then that’s not enough.  Not enough to withstand the barrage of rejection you’re going to receive, and not enough to withstand the rigors of a buyer’s market that’s increasingly spoiled for choice.  Because if you think agents and editors are unforgiving…try actual readers.

Hone your craft.  Write, and keep writing.  Write until you’ve mastered what challenges you.  Write every day, and each day push yourself to write a little more.  Start side projects: personal journals, short stories.  Anything.  Just keep writing.  Blogs are great, because they represent a daily–hourly!–chance to expose your work to the world.  And to get almost instantaneous feedback.  Moreover, daily blog entries are something akin to suicide sprints in that they might serve no obvious purpose on their own–not like, say, practicing layups–but they’ll up your game immeasurably.

And in the meantime, build your team: people who will support you, and challenge you, and build you up, and help you grow.  A number of people have asked me, over the years, if I thought that wanting to hire an editor made them insecure (I get these questions, of course, because I am a freelance editor).  My answer is not only no, but quite the opposite.  Recognizing the need for an editor is the ultimate badge of a secure writer.  And yes, “secure” is a relative term; authors, like attorneys, tend to be insecure people.  Trust me, I know.  But it’s the truly insecure writers, the ones with egos of glass, who tend to avoid editors like the plague.  Like my plagiarist, who informed me in no uncertain terms that she was a better writer (and smarter) than 95%–or possibly 99%–of the population.

She didn’t want an editor, because she didn’t want anyone suggesting that her craft might need improvement.  But I, personally, have always thought that you should only be afraid of criticism if you believe in your heart of hearts that you’re incapable of doing any better.  If there’s even a shred of doubt, somewhere, that you can do even one half of one percent better, however, accept it as what it is–a coaching opportunity–learn from it what you can and move on.  Moreover, it’s better to hear “this chapter makes no sense” from someone who’s on your team than from the reader who tells everyone on Amazon.

The goal post is going to keep moving.  The only question before you is whether you’re going to be the one moving it, or whether you’re going to let the universe do it for you.  Even if, your first time out of the gate, you write the Great American Novel, even if the first agent you query and the first editor she queries loves your manuscript, and even if you immediately get the publishing contract of your dreams, that all is still only step one.  If you plan on making a career out of this, you have to write a second book.

It’s an axiom that bravery isn’t lack of fear, but action in spite of fear; remember this, when you’re writing.

If you hit a wall, ask for help.  Lawyers are encouraged to be social in a way that, unfortunately, writers are not.  They help each other; the people fighting on either side of the aisle are usually friends, in real life.  And while they might talk about their actual cases (because, you know, you can’t do that) together, they do talk about the stresses they’re under.  There are all kinds of support groups out there, and service opportunities for lawyers who want to help other lawyers–or, indeed, who want to serve the needs of their communities.

All too often, though, writers limit their communication with the outside world to, “offer me constructive feedback” or “buy my book.”  It’s okay to ask for other kinds of help!  To simply ask for support!

To ask for whatever you need, so that you can keep playing, and pushing, and learning to believe in yourself.

So What IS Biblical Marriage?

Every time I see another pundit coming on TV, flapping his fleshy white hands in the air and talking about “Biblical marriage,” I want to reach through the screen and grab him and shout, “sir, have you actually read the Bible?”

“Traditional” marriage, as a concept, is pretty recent; with marriage as with everything else, we’ve rewritten our history to suit ourselves.  And like all myth, this one, too, is subject to change.  Because it’s not about teaching history, but about selling the next generation on a set of rules.  Which is what, at heart, myths are all about: teaching children not to take candy from strangers by telling them “Hansel and Gretel,” or to avoid the man with the suspiciously blank panel truck and “puppies” to look at by telling them about the troll under the bridge.  And here too, proponents of one man, one woman are trying to protect those they perceive as their flock from the imagined ill effects of allowing complete strangers to do as they please.

I’m a woman, married to a man.  When my husband and I were first married, we lived in a wretched little apartment and by coincidence almost all of our neighbors–who were mostly young, struggling students like ourselves–were gay.  Which, I used to joke, was proof–as if we needed any–that this “exposure will make you gay” rhetoric was nonsense.  Equal marriage was legalized in our state; our marriage didn’t suddenly become invalid.  The fact that I could now marry a woman didn’t make me wake up one morning and realize that I was gay.  Because, let’s face it: if the fact of suddenly being able to marry another woman makes you want to run out and immediately marry another woman, you were already gay to begin with.

Naturally, Mr. PJ and I were not affected.  Unless you count gaining quite a bit of weight from attending a high number of calorie-rich wedding receptions.  There was no great gong of torment rung; although the WBC did show up in our town once.  Rather, we were just happy to see that, “hey, these people are in love, too, getting married was so awesome, it’s so awesome to remember that moment in our lives by seeing it repeated in someone else’s.”  Never have I felt that marriage, as an institution, was “threatened” by large groups of people taking it so seriously that they’ve made it their live’s mission to experience that sacrament for themselves.

So of course, because there’s really no sense to the idea that someone you’ve never met before making a decision–i.e. who to marry–that you’ll never hear about is somehow a threat to your existence, they have to fall back on some other logic.  Which is where the Bible comes in.  Not, you know, the parts that preach unconditional love and tolerance–which Jesus talked about a lot, although He never mentioned homosexuality once–but the parts about marriage.  Or, rather, one part about marriage.  The part where God made Adam and Eve and Jesus rode in on a t-rex.  They know that, chances are, you haven’t read the Bible.  Many churches even, I’ve discovered, discourage their parishioners from reading the Bible.

And they know that the world is changing, and people are afraid.

So they capitalize on your ignorance by telling you that the Bible says something it doesn’t–says a lot of things that it doesn’t, actually.  While conveniently glossing over the fact that if anyone’s threatening the institution of marriage, it’s people like Britney Spears who get married for 58 hours at a time and treat the whole endeavor like a joke.  Which, Jesus did have something to say about divorce.  Specifically, he was pretty against the whole idea (Matt. 19:7–9).

Now, when it comes to permitting divorce, most churches–rightly, I think–acknowledge that however divinely revealed the Bible might be it’s also a living document and that God gave us free agency for a reason.  He never intended us to slavishly follow any set of rules without first stepping back and asking if they passed the morals test and Jesus certainly didn’t.  He was a big fan of the idea that rule-following alone didn’t make one a good person and, in fact, often made one a bad person indeed (Matt. 23) and, equally, of the idea that rules were meant to serve the conscience and not the other way around (Mark 2:27).  Following any rule, without also following the “first and most important rule” that represented “the sum of the law,” i.e. loving one’s neighbors unconditionally, made one a hypocrite and an “empty tomb.”

But if reasoning by analogy doesn’t work, I invite you to share with them the following: the Bible’s eight different kinds of so-called “traditional” marriage.

Yes, eight.

I mean, if we’re going to define “correct” marriage solely by biblical definitions, without stopping to question whether doing so makes sense, then we should go whole hog.  Don’t you think?  Plus, you’ll have the fun of seeing the surprise on their faces.  So without any further delay, we have…

One man and one woman (Gen. 2:24), also commanded to “be fruitful and multiply.”  Which, incidentally, if the purpose of marriage is procreation then shouldn’t marriage be forbidden to infertile couples?  Or marriages, once a couple’s infertility is discovered, be invalidated?  And what about post-menopausal couples?  Should they be allowed to marry?
One man, one or more wives, and one or more concubines.  Abraham, Gideon, Nahor, Jacob, Eliphaz, Caleb, Manassah, and Solomon all had concubines.  Solomon reputedly had lots of concubines; three hundred, to be exact.  There are a number of rules, in the Bible, about when a man can take a concubine, how to subdue her if she’s unwilling, under what circumstances he can return her for being defective, etc.
One man, one or more wives, and the woman’s property (Gen. 16).  A man can legally acquire his wife’s slave as his own property, to take as wife or concubine, through the initial marriage contract.
One man and one or more wives, i.e. polygany.  Lamech, Esau, Jacob, Ashur, Gideon, Elkanah, and many others had multiple wives.  Moses had at least three wives.  Abijah had fourteen.
One man and his brother’s widow (Gen. 38:6–10).  A widow who hadn’t born a son was required to marry her late husband’s brother.
A rapist and his victim (Deut. 22:28–29).  A virgin who’s raped must marry her rapist.  Her rapist, in turn, must pay the woman’s father 50 shekels of silver for his “property loss.”  Oh, and if she turned out not to be a virgin the law required that she be stoned to death.
One male soldier and one female prisoner of war (Num. 31:1–18, Deut. 21:11–14).  The marriage, in this case, was obviously not voluntary for the woman.  But Moses commanded that his men could kill whatever men they encountered and, furthermore, that their new “wives” must submit to them sexually.
One male slave and one female slave (Exod. 21:4).  In this form of marriage, equally as biblical as all the others, a master could assign wives to his male slaves.  The proposed wives were not consulted.  And…let’s not even get started on the Bible’s support of slavery, shall we?  Well, okay, if you really want to then I have another post for you.  A different, and even more thrilling investigation into the results of biblical literalism.

Hey, all of a sudden separation of church and state (you know, that thing in the Constitution?) is sounding pretty good, isn’t it?  And if we’re not trying to protect Jesus’ teachings of tolerance and acceptance and we’re not trying to protect His teachings that each man is responsible for his own sins, i.e. his own choices, and we’re not trying to protect the idea that a man can “marry” his prisoner of war by raping her and we’re not trying to protect the Constitution, for which so many brave men and women have sacrificed their lives, the same Constitution that protects the civil rights of all its citizens, regardless of their religious affiliations, as Thomas Jefferson specifically intended, then what, exactly, are we trying to protect?

Why I Don’t Write Erotica

It’s not because I don’t write sex scenes.

I do.

I have no particular problem with erotica, at all, nor with those who write it.  But let me explain to you, briefly, why I don’t.  Erotica is the literary answer to a one night stand: fun while it lasted, at least in theory, but ultimately meaningless.  If anything stays with you, it’s nothing special.  Because the point of the whole encounter was sex.  Sex was the beginning, as well as the end of it.  And after that…nothing.  And personally, I don’t like sex as the end point.  I’m a hopeful person; I like beginnings.

I want to root for the characters: for them to get together, and, more, to solve their own problems.  To achieve their goals.  I want their relationship to be part of that and I want, indeed, for it to be a relationship.  For that moment when they finally do get together to be triumphant.  Something you wait for, as the reader; something you don’t know for certain will even happen.  Something that signals, not just the cotton candy fun of a few moments’ passion but the start of something new.  New, and exciting.

A number of people have observed, in response to Game of Thrones mania, that killing characters off is easy; getting your audience to care that you’ve done so is hard.  Likewise, getting your audience to care that your characters have gotten together is hard.  Or not gotten together, as the case may be.  Getting your audience to care about your characters at all is hard.  And for me, personally–as both a writer and a reader–just knowing what someone looks like isn’t enough to ignite that spark.  Just knowing that another person finds them hot isn’t, either.  I want, as a writer, exactly what I want as a reader: to feel something, inside, after I stop reading.  Not to feel empty, or bereft, or guilty, but to feel alive.  Even if what happened was ultimately a tragedy.  It has to mean something.

Even if it’s funny.  Even if it’s silly.  Even if it’s sexy.  It has to mean something, and mean something in a way that leaves me wanting more.

On Tolerance

If tolerance were easy, everyone would do it.

And by tolerance, I don’t mean moral equivalency.  I know quite a few people who pride themselves on their ability to “stay out of it.”  To watch from the sidelines as people are hurt, or bullied, and not take sides.  They feel that their indifference to another’s suffering is branding them as “tolerant” when all it’s doing is confirming them as people with no spine. You can say “I’m against bullying” all you want, and share all the Facebook memes you want, but if you stand by and watch while someone else is bullied then guess what: you’re not anti-bullying.

If you prioritize your own comfort–and that includes curating how people see you–over doing what you claim to believe is right, then you’re not tolerant.  You’re self absorbed.  And a hypocrite.  And yet, many times, people tend to keep their mouths shut because they’re afraid of consequences.  They turn a blind eye because what if they intervene, and then someone doesn’t like them?  Putting aside why you’d want the good opinion of a bully, or how valuable that good opinion would be, the issue is consequences: consequences, in this case, being that taking a stand means being more popular with some and less with others.

As John Lennon observed, “being honest won’t get you a lot of friends, but it’ll get you the right ones.”

Recently, I was engaged in a discussion of the group “Ordain Women.”  This isn’t a topic I’d planned on discussing on this blog because, frankly, I think everyone’s entitled to their own opinion and I’m not looking to proselytize–about anything.  Except, perhaps, the excellence of my books.  But I digress.  The discussion in question turned nasty because one of the participants, an ex-Mormon, saw my membership in the church as an “invitation to discussion” of why the church was wrong.  Now, as someone who never in my life has seen anyone’s difference as an invitation to discussion, of anything, except perhaps an inquiry into their unique point of view I found this confusing.  Isn’t diversity supposed to be a good thing?

She then proceeded to do exactly what she claimed others had done to her, and what she didn’t want: tell me why I was wrong, how the church was horrible, etc.  To which my response was, hey, let’s all tolerate one another.  I’m not looking to change anyone else’s mind; please don’t bag on me, just because I’m different than you.  Her response was, essentially, to pathologize me: I guess my “live and let live” tendencies are the product of a brittle mind and my “practice the golden rule” mandate the nadir of intolerance.  I guess if I were really tolerant, and had really good self esteem, I’d invite people to criticize me on the basis of pure conjecture and for no particular reason.  Sort of like…what?  Asking people to prove how okay with being gay they are by asking them to hang around with homophobes?

Because nothing says, “I have no tolerance for diversity” like asking people to tolerate diversity?

Moreover, I feel very strongly that if someone going to instigate a “discussion” of what’s wrong with another person, they should hold themselves to the standard of listening to that person’s response.  Which, of course, wasn’t what happened.  Which was, and is, unfortunate.  I think, sometimes, what people really mean by “discussion” is an opportunity to reinforce their prejudices.  You see, if I have a problem with her throwing a tantrum that would put my toddler to shame, I’m “just another intolerant church member.”  Never mind the possibility that there are certain boundaries, which no self-respecting person allows another person to cross.

But one point that she raised, I wanted to address in depth: the idea that “tolerance” somehow means “freedom from consequences.”  There’s no freedom from consequences–that’s an illusion.  If you view yourself as some kind of innovator or freedom fighter or whatever, you have to realize that that is going to come with consequences.  Every choice we make has consequences–and the truth of that statement has nothing to do with whether one attends a particular church.  Or any church at all.  Because it’s not some other person, or group of people, who decide the course of your life for you but you.  You act, and the universe responds.

Or, as Mr. PJ wrote,

With all due respect, that’s magical thinking. The fact of the matter is, the LDS Church is a Christian church–it upholds the Gospels and the teachings of Christ. It also specifically requires members to make covenants that they will promise to keep–including covenants to obey the Scriptures and the teachings of the Church.

First and foremost, if you’re suggesting there’s no reason to excommunicate anyone for any reason, I couldn’t disagree more strongly. Christ (and His Church) was indeed endlessly loving–but only to those who repent of their sins. He was most definitely NOT accepting of unrepentant sinners and contrarians. The LDS Church is actually quite unique in that it considers excommunication and disfellowship an act of love–a way to encourage the person to rethink their mistakes and come back to the Church. Putting aside the issue of whether or not Ordain Women et al. fall into this category, surely it applies to those who have committed crimes of moral turpitude or violated other sacred moral laws?

Secondly, disagreeing with excommunication for the leader of Ordain Women is certainly your right, but objecting to it is also, quite frankly, a bit immature. No one forced her to make the covenants she made. She willingly chose to be part of the church, and then acted in a manner inconsistent with its values. And in fact, did so for quite a while before the Church finally took action. Why wouldn’t it make sense for them to threaten consequences? The idea that people should be able to say and act any way they like is consistent with an attitude of moral relativism–that it’s not as bad as other things, and that no one deserves to face consequences for their actions. It’s important to note, here, that that is indeed what she is facing: consequences for her actions–no one, including the church, is telling her what to think. They’re simply telling her that if she wants to head up a movement critical of the church and strive to undermine its teachings, that she may face excommunication as a result.

Which brings us back around to the same issue: tolerance is not moral equivalency.  Tolerance is not looking the other way.  Tolerance is not checking our obligations, as brothers and sisters to each other and as stewards of this earth, at the door.  Tolerance is not ignoring evil, when you see it, out of some misplaced sense that doing so will cause others to see you as being tolerant.  Conversely, cherishing one’s own moral compass does not make one intolerant.  So what is tolerance?

Dallin H. Oaks, a noted jurist, gives the following definition: “Tolerance is defined as a friendly and fair attitude toward unfamiliar or different opinions and practices or toward the persons who hold or practice them. As modern transportation and communication have brought all of us into closer proximity to different peoples and different ideas, we have greater need for tolerance.  This greater exposure to diversity both enriches our lives and complicates them. We are enriched by associations with different peoples, which remind us of the wonderful diversity of the children of God.”

I don’t pretend to know how decent people should put this principle into practice.  This is a challenge that most of us, I think, if we’re really honest with ourselves, have been working on since we were born and will continue to work on for the rest of our lives.  But what I do know is that–at least for me–the fundamental cornerstone of tolerance is the golden rule.  Not the moral equivalency of looking the other way, but the choice to recognize other and different–in terms of doing what we believe is right, according to how we would want others to treat us–as equal.  True tolerance doesn’t cause us to abandon our beliefs but, rather, to celebrate the best of them.

It challenges us, not to look the other way, but to become better.

The Price of Desire–Missing Chapter?

It’s come to my attention, through my publisher, that some versions of the Kindle-formatted The Price of Desire were missing chapter 39.  Some weren’t.  In any case, this occurrence was caused by a technical glitch and has been fixed.  However, if you purchased a version that did have a missing chapter, please contact my publisher for an updated version.  We’re sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused (Amazon is unclear as to how many copies may have had the glitch) but, in any case, it IS fixed now and both Amazon and my publisher assure me that future readers can buy with complete confidence.

I’m sorry for the mix-up!

Sexy Ad Goodness

Behold! the ads for The Price of Desire:

Think this is all awesome?  I do, too!  I also love my cover designs.  And this whole post is really just a plug (well obviously for my book but also) for Orange Box Design.  The extremely talented creators of all my advertising and other exterior design work.  If you’re interested in using their services, contact my publisher!

How To Start Writing

A statement I hear a lot is something to the effect if, “I want to write but I don’t know where to start, because there’s just too much going on in my mind.  I have so much to say…my thoughts are completely overwhelming me to the point where I can’t write anything at all.”  Which of the thousand and one story ideas should I start with?  How do I know which one will make a good story, in the end, and which won’t?

My advice is, just start writing.  Don’t worry about the end result.  As is so often the case, the good news and the bad news are the same news: you won’t know, until you’ve written it, whether your idea made for a good story or not.  I talk about that idea more here, in “Mistakes New Writers Make.”  But to help you in taking the plunge, here’s a list of things to remember:

The first thing you write isn’t the last thing you write.  If you’re lucky, as much as 5% of your ideas will make it into the first manuscript you complete.  Probably none of them will.  And that’s okay, because the best ideas often come to us while we’re writing.  It’s the writing process itself, that most feeds creativity.  Writing, in this respect, is exactly like training for a sport.  Mental preparation is important, but you learn and evolve as an athlete through practice.
Your other ideas aren’t going anywhere.  Keep a journal.  Write them down as they come to you.  Use them when you need them.  Your ideas are in service to you, not the other way around; they’re supposed to aid you in your creative process, rather than you slavishly trying to encapsulate them on the page.  Trust me, this is something it took me a very long time to learn.
You won’t become a writer, good or bad, through wishful thinking.  You have to be disciplined.  Set aside time every day to write.  Yes, every day.  Commit to that time.  Spend it writing.  Yes, it’ll suck at first.  It’ll be impossibly hard.  But it’ll get easier–with practice.
Be honest with yourself about what your priorities really are.
Invest in the process, not the end result.  Remind yourself, as much as it takes for as long as it takes, that you’re doing this because you love to write.  Because you want to write.  Writing, especially professionally, is a pretty thankless job.  If you’re doing this to make money, or become famous, then do yourself a favor and pick another job.  Whatever your goals are, whether they’re to write the Great American Novel or just become better at journaling, you have to love the act of writing itself.  It’s the only thing that’ll get you through.

I hope you’ve found this helpful.  Questions?  Comments?  Something I missed?  Let me know!