Where Do You FInd Words?

My youngest daughter is always the champion. When she sees a new idea and loves it, she takes off at top speed.

I showed her the WordBowl, 2011, and she was enchanted. She started gathering woven bowls from around the house. Bowls that came from Kenya. Starting cutting slips of paper and plying me for words.

"Sparkly," that's a good word, isn't it, Mommy?"

"That's a great word."

"Is this how you spell threaten? T h r e a t e n."

"Wow, you spelled that right!"

"I know how to spell a lot of things, Mommy. Don't you know?"

And she fills her bowl. And she writes a poem about playing ball with the moon. And I laugh when the ball goes bop-bop-bop, and I get emotional when the moon and she must part. She's found her words, and she's filled me.

Should We Force People to Write?

I admit in Rumors of Water: Thoughts on Creativity & Writing, that I never made my daughters write (they are home-educated, and I do it how I want).

In our education experience together, we've done a lot of other things that I believe turned my girls into writers, but mandatory writing was not one of them.

I am thinking about this today especially, after reading a quote at this wonderful place:

But what if the reading problem isn’t as simple as forcing students to read and write more (which we should also do)?

Really? Should we force students to write? Here's a poem from Sara, age 14, which she handed me today. She made up her own form for it. This, from a girl who has never been forced to write...


The Pirates and the Sun

Once upon a long ago time
When lemon trees fell in love with lime,
And all the fairy tales were true (if only in your mind)
A pirate sailed the seven seas to find the treasure.

The treasure sat on the rim of the sun,
At the edge of the sea, number 101,
At the edge of the night, just before it’s done,
And there sat the treasure, the only one.

The pirate’s flag was big and black,
It billowed and whipped and sometimes lay slack,
It was made of (don’t tell) a regular sack,
But it was the flag of a pirate.

The pirate smiled and twirled his moustache,
He grinned and rubbed his hands at the sight of the stash,
And one gold tooth in his mouth did flash,
And every pirate got gold, from the first to the last.

Now the pirates sailed back, for a year and a day,
And they met an old monk, who taught them how to pray,
And they had many adventures, don’t ever say
They weren’t the greatest pirates who lived.

Yes they sailed away, and now they came home,
With a bag of gold, and a horse from Rome,
And a parrot, a stick, and a wrinkled old gnome,
A drum and a harp and a broken trombone.

But the world had changed when they sailed to the sun,
To the last ever sea (number 101)
And the pirates’ fleet was sunken and gone,
And the world was round in the minds of everyone.

So the pirates took one look at the cities of the day,
From London to New York to the coast of Malay,
To the skyscrapers high and the waters grey,
And they turned right around, and went back where they came.

And now they do sail, past the coasts one by one,
Forever looking for the treasure, the only one,
And the edge of the sea right next the sun,
And the time they left behind long ago.

For what use is gold if your world is gone?
What use is a ship when it’s old and down-run?
What use is a crew of pirates who come
To the deck always looking for the thing which they long?


If we shouldn't force students to write (and I believe we shouldn't), what is the key to getting them to a place of excellence in reading and writing? Well, perhaps to answer to that question, you'll need to read the book. ;-) But I'd also love to hear your ideas right here today.

What if You Have a Genius?

"And what if the genius is yours for one exquisite moment of your life," says Elizabeth Gilbert, "and then you pass it along?"

(I feel this way about the writing I've done. I feel like if I never accomplish anything major again, then the process of passing it along to those I teach and mentor is something beautiful and just as exquisite in its way.)

Choosing (or Not) to Play the Game

This year, as some of you know, my older daughter is in a distance-learning program. It's been a struggle in many ways. But the biggest difficulty has been my girl's impatience with a system that sometimes "doesn't get it."

By this she means, the balance of inside and out has sometimes not been well-understood or successfully addressed. Being home-educated her whole life, this is a shocking experience. The rhythm of our lives has always been to cultivate what's inside the girls with appropriate outside helps. The balance has been (mostly) simple to achieve.

There are days when I almost despair over how simple it *has not been* in this new situation, though the distance-school has tried to (mostly) be accommodating.

The other night I told my girl that this is how it is in life. She'll encounter people and systems who "get it" and those who don't. And she will have to choose whether to play their game or assert her own game. I told her stories of times I've played the game and times I determined I could not. I want her to know she has a choice.

5 Ways to Increase Your Klout Score Exponentially

In the span of about a week, I increased my Klout score by 13 points. To put this in perspective, I should mention that this happened during the fallout period, when a lot of people's Klout scores dropped.

It also happened over the *exact days* I revamped my Twitter strategy. So this post is going to share my Twitter secrets, which are based, quite simply, on love.

(For those of you who know and love me, let me assure you I haven't gone Klout crazy. My workplace is exploring it, and so I began exploring it. The only danger I see so far is that I might become a Klout-score-checking addict :)

Klout, in my opinion, could otherwise be called a "love quotient." It tracks who you love, what you love, how much you love, who loves you and how much they're willing to share the love.

So, here's the Lovers Guide to Increasing Your Klout Score thru Twitter

1. Ask yourself, what do I really love? Then tweet about it. Do this for two reasons. One, it will enable you to be more focused (an important part of a good Twitter strategy). And, two, it will enable you to sustain your Twitter activity for the long haul. Nothing works better than a strategy that fits with your lifestyle and interests.

2. Claim your love. My workplace has done this, with some success, by using the hashtag #goodwork. My Twitter poetry group has done it with the hashtag #tsptry. It's a way to get seen amidst the noise, and to invite others into your circle.

Some people have an uber-branding strategy around the use of unique hashtags. #Amwriting, an "award-winning hashtag," developed by Johanna Harness, is one of the most creative I've seen yet.

3. Get emotional about your love. There's a reason advertisers track your emotions. Take advantage of it, and make sure your tweets use emotive words or concepts that will generate an emotional response in your followers. This isn't about exploiting your tweeps; it's about becoming a better writer.

4. Ask for love. @Claireburge impresses me with her questions. On any given day on Twitter (or elsewhere), you will find her asking for advice and direction from those in the know. This is not only a terrific connecting strategy, it is also a humble strategy, because it seeks to learn.

5. Make love connections. Do you know people who would just love to know each other? Introduce them. Go ahead and tweet @doallas I think you would love @knittingthewind—just beautiful! Increasing connections naturally and lovingly is part of a healthy networking strategy.

Try these 5 Twitter Love-Life tips, and let me know if they increase your Klout score. I'd be curious to know.


And now, a love request.

I'm looking for love in the following places, and would really appreciate any direction you could give me, towards excellent bloggers and tweeters and Tumblrs who beautifully explore:

tea, French, bread, writing

I'm also claiming my love in these same categories. If you want to follow along on any given day, or become part of a more focused conversation, you can join me under these hashtags...

LLfrench
LLtea
LLbread
LLwriting

(If nothing comes up under a particular hashtag, that means I haven't been tweeting about it lately. Hashtags don't bring up results if you take a rest for a few days. And I *always* take a rest on weekends. Which, btw, will lower a Klout score. But I love my rest, and you can't put a score on that.)

Why Are You Tweeting During Your Performance Review?

You know, it's all about Klout.

And maybe your next raise.

Steve Jobs Comes to Lunch with Creativity

Over lunch the other day, I was talking to a friend of mine. He's working on his PhD in the area of user experiences, mostly technology.

His opinion of what Steve Jobs did best? Take stuff that already existed and find ways to put it together. This fascinated me; after all, we think of Jobs as the one who "created" some of these technologies. My friend said it wasn't like that. Instead, Jobs often saw possibilities in disparate pre-existing technologies and put them together to create beautiful user experiences.

This reminds me of today's chapter in Mindfulness, which focuses on creativity. Creativity doesn't necessarily create out-of-nothing. It simply does a quarter-turn and says, "Ah, look at it this way."

If this sounds easy, it may not be. My friend laughed as he put his iPhone on the table and said, "Isn't it beautiful? And even when other companies had it sitting in front of them, they still couldn't create a decent knock-off. That's genius, don't you think?"

I often wonder how well we are cultivating this kind of genius in the way we teach our young people, giving them, as Langer notes, too few choices in how they interact with materials and information; I know that my own daughter is chaffing against her distance-learning program this year, because it prescribes more than she's used to (we're working on that... maybe later this week I'll share her next assignment, which she took *more* than a quarter-turn with).

How much are we willing to do the quarter turns? How much does creativity matter to us? It might mean a "bad grade" or some commercial failures along the way. Will we risk it?

Being Mindful of Twitter Power

There are always two (or more) ways to frame something, reminds Ellen Langer. Remembering that is part of being mindful.

I've heard people frame Twitter as a mindless pursuit. But... may I suggest a different perspective?

Last year I wrote a post called 10 Reasons to Write (Or Not) a Book About Writing. Someone I didn't know, called @fictwriter, tweeted the post. Not long after, Jane Friedman, who was working for Writer's Digest at the time, clicked through the tweet link and left this comment on the post...

Found your post through Twitter (@ficwriter). I work at Writer's Digest, and understand the dilemma! But if you decide you want to do it, we'd love to see your proposal.

Jane's words stuck with me, even though I categorically decided I would *not* write a book about writing. In fact, I was too tired to think about writing anything at all, having already put myself to the task of book-writing several times.

Still, when I went to a picnic this June and got my title handed to me, I remembered Jane's words. It made me think the project was not just fun but also viable.

So again I turned to Twitter. One Saturday morning I asked my friends, "If I was, say, writing a book on writing, what would you want included?"

Their answers helped me shape the book. A lot.

Today the power of Twitter has come full circle to Jane. Remembering her comment so long ago, I mentioned that I had actually done the book, largely thanks to her comment. As a result, she read the book, and today I am tweeting her post, which excerpts the book that Twitter brought to life.

Twitter a mindless pursuit? Not for me. :)

___

Care to join us at The High Calling for a bookclub discussion of Mindfulness, by Ellen Langer?

The Power-Point Embraced

Yesterday I shared how I encouraged my daughter to take her anger and channel it into a reasoned response. One reader asked to see that response. I asked Sara if it was okay, and she kindly said yes...

_____

I read all the stories and excerpts.

And I come to this question: why does the Literature book have mean, depressing, senseless stories? It’s just meanness and meanness and nothing has happened. Nothing has changed. I once read somewhere that writers have a responsibility for their stories—you have to think about the readers, and if your story will harm more than it will help. I wasn’t sure what I thought of that before, but now I agree. Some stories you shouldn’t have to read, unless you choose to. That’s why there are so many in the world—so everyone has a type of story they find fun, or interesting, or true, or wise, or perfect. Forcing someone to read story after story that is depressing does not have any use that I can see.

The ancient Greeks thought that writing comedy was a greater accomplishment than writing tragedy. William Faulkner, in his Nobel Prize speech, seems to agree. He doesn’t talk about comedy per se, but he notes that we need stories that “are not merely… the record of man…[but] one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail.” If a story lacks the universal truths of the resilient human spirit, he says it is “ephemeral and doomed.”

Some of the stories in the Literature book seem to lack these universal truths, as if they were a commentary on hopelessness instead of an experience of humanity—not merely the good or the evil, but the will to hope, even when there is no escape, to try, even when they can change nothing—like Anne Frank. I believe that stories like some in the Literature book will not be remembered in a thousand /200/300/500 years—unless it is for something other than the stories themselves, like their virtue as cultural artifacts. The oldest piece of literature in the world, Gilgamesh, is still being retranslated and retold and read. The Lord of The Rings is the same, Sherlock Holmes is the same—they have the life and energy now that they had when they were first written. Why? Because they tell of a story that is as true now as it was then, a story that transcends the boundaries of language and time.

_____

On Hopeless Literature Essay, by Sara, age 14. Used with permission.

Don't Be Afraid of Your True Writing or Work

Such an interesting convergence this morning. I am having three conversations about the same thing. One is happening in my dining room. One on Twitter. And one in email.

The thing?

People are nervous about their true condition.

It has been framed slightly differently in the three conversations. One person thinks her style needs to change before she can step out. Another is concerned that she can't use a life circumstance to mold an activity she needs to work with. And the third, my own daughter, began by refusing to write an assignment, because she was so angry about it she could just about spit.

Let me reign this in to the conversation with my daughter. "Embrace the anger," I told her. "It's your strongest response. Don't be afraid of it. Use it."

She is just now finishing an essay she decided to write, on the reason that hopeless literature shouldn't be the focus of a high school curriculum. She has brought in the Greeks' opinion on comedy being more important than tragedy, and she has quoted Willliam Faulkner's Nobel Prize speech. She has taken the anger of her first draft and turned it into an incisive, insightful, profound essay that should make any teacher take a second look at what he or she is using for a literature program.

Which is to say... don't be afraid of where you are. Embrace the strongest point of your experience. The thing that is consuming your time or your emotions. It is your power-point.


Signing Rumors photo by Kelly Sauer. Used with permission.