Something happened at work the other day that took me back more than a decade, to my first job in Manhattan, and my first management role.

At the time I was working in the production department for a small publishing company near the Flatiron Building. I didn?t like the work: I didn?t like the company. But I was getting paid, and it was a start. Beyond the daily boredom of my job, which primarily involved database management, I operated in a small supervisory capacity, but only now and agaiSomething happened at work the other day that took me back more than a decade, to my first job in Manhattan, and my first management role.

At the time I was working in the production department for a small publishing company near the Flatiron Building. I didn?t like the work: I didn?t like the company. But I was getting paid, and it was a start. Beyond the daily boredom of my job, which primarily involved database management, I operated in a small supervisory capacity, but only now and again. We only needed extra help from time to time, so my supervisory position was inconsistent. But the dynamics of the room I was in created a slightly more complex situation.

My desk was flush against another facing desk, so I shared a mid-sized room with the other guy, who faced me, and about a half-dozen temps. The other guy?who we?ll call Ron?was in a slightly different role, and supervised the temps on a more regular basis, and more directly. But if I needed something done, I had some authority over the temps.

The problem?as it turned out?wasn?t the dynamics of the room. The problem was me. I 25 then, and though I?d been working steady since I was 12?paper route, temping, bartending, waiting tables?and had done my student teaching by then, having been responsible for about 150 students?I had very little experience working in an office, and it showed. Part of it had to do with the fact that I hated the work and it was a lousy company, but mostly it had to with the fact that I was still immature in some regards, and hadn?t learned?or accepted?that the way an office actually worked wasn?t quite the same as how I thought it should work. And I wasn?t particularly adept at making my peace with it.

On this one day, I was deep in the throws of the project I was working on; it was deadline time. It was tedious work, and I had to concentrate. And the work had to get done. Had to. But the room was filled with temps?mostly young college kids?and as was the case on most days, we had the radio playing, and people were chatting and whatnot. On any other day, I wouldn?t have cared. But I had to focus, and the noise was distracting.

So I stood up and announced?sternly?that I needed to have quiet. I don?t think I was a jerk about it, but it was clear I wasn?t fooling around. It was work time, and that was that. I saw a few looks of mini-shock, and maybe some annoyance, but everybody did as I asked and kept pretty quiet. Okay. Fair enough. Now I?m working.

And then …

My phone rings. It?s a friend of mine, and he wants to chew the fat and talk about plans for the weekend. I?m already wound up, stressed from my deadlines, and these words are about to come out of my mouth: ?Hey, dude. Love to chat, but I can?t. I?m on a deadline. I?ll call you back tonight.?

If only I?d actually said them.

Instead, in my mind, I thought, hey, everybody was already chatting and listening to music, and I could use a break, so okay. Now?s a good time. I need to let off some steam.

And so I spent the next 20 or 30 minutes blabbering away about this and that?but certainly not working. After my chatting I got right back to it, locked in on what I had to do. It was difficult work, which took another few days, but ultimately it got done.

Fast-forward about a month and Ron comes up to me in the kitchen. I say something about the fact that one of the temps, a young college student I?d been flirting with and had agreed to go out with me, was now blowing me off. He explained why.

Ron told me that during that deadline day a month earlier, when I needed quiet, and was forceful about it, the temps understood. They didn?t like it, but they accepted it, and respected that I needed to do what I needed to do. But once I took that phone call, I lost them. Completely. They hated me after that, even though I hadn?t quite noticed.

I asked Ron why he hadn?t said something to me earlier. Had he pointed it out, I would have owned up to what I had done, and maybe I could have salvaged myself a little. He didn?t say anything just then. Of course, I was looking for someone to blame for my blunder; I was looking for an out.

Still, I thought we were good enough friends that he would have told me that the whole room hated me, and constantly talked about me behind my back, but I guess not. It also cleared up our relationship after that.

My point, however, is that I learned?the hard way?what now seems fairly obvious: If I want to ask?or demand?certain behavior from others, I have to do the same myself. (Why I didn?t already know and practice this is a discussion for another time).

It?s this earlier incident which brings me to just the other day.

We have a pretty nice group at my office overall these days, and at one point or another there?s usually some chatter about sports or movies, and I encourage it. We?re together 40 to 50 hours a week. It can?t all be about work. And I?m an active participant in these chats?when I think the time is right, and in moderation.

So there I was, just a few days ago, and I?m on another deadline. I work in publishing, so deadlines are par for the course. But this is a tough one, as my responsibilities are particularly significant these days?including being upper middle management of a large staff. The clock?s ticking and I really need to focus and concentrate, but from just a few feet away I hear some chit-chat about the Mets and their pitching, and who hit a homer off of who the night before.

Just hearing their voices?and the chatter being about sports; i.e., not work?got my blood boiling. This was work time only?in my mind?and work should have been on everybody?s mind, too. Because of the intense stress I was under, I was pretty humorless just then, and had an impulse to be righteous and indignant about what?s appropriate at work.

But I didn?t.

I reminded myself that, had I not been on deadline, and a brutal one at that, I might very well have been in the middle of that very conversation, just as I had been in a similar conversation earlier that day. And when I thought back to my phone blunder a decade earlier, I knew that I should either ask?respectfully and with explanation?for a little quiet, or else just let it go.

Which I did.

Being in charge of other people is rarely easy. But regardless of the circumstance, I have to always remember that I can?t expect others to just conform to my inner struggles. It?s my job to make good, rational and reasonable decisions at all times, keeping in mind that my problems are just that?my problems. And if I want the ongoing respect of those who report to me, I have to earn it every day. Sure, I get a little wiggle room in the long haul, but ultimately, they?re watching and listening all the time.

The challenge is filtering any of my inner turmoil before I speak or act, remembering that if I make demands of others, I?d better do the same myself. Respect is difficult to gain; it?s easy to lose.

I like to think I?ve come a long way since that telephone day, and I try to treat everyone I supervise with the ongoing goals of helping them succeed at their current projects, while improving overall as professionals.

It?s my favorite part of the job. And also the most difficult.

Johan Santana is hands down the best pitcher in baseball–by far–and one of the best pitchers to come along in the last 20 years or so. He’s right up there with Pedro, Maddux, Clemens and Johnson in their primes …Johan Santana is hands down the best pitcher in baseball–by far–and one of the best pitchers to come along in the last 20 years or so. He’s right up there with Pedro, Maddux, Clemens and Johnson in their primes …

So much for Pavano’s healthy streak …So much for Pavano’s healthy streak …

I know it’s early, and I’m not one to panic, the Yankees pitching is looking pretty harsh these days. Mussina: hurt. Wang: hurt. Pavano: hurt (no surprise). Pettitte: hurt.

And Fansworth has already blown two games.

Eesh. Rough first week or two …I know it’s early, and I’m not one to panic, the Yankees pitching is looking pretty harsh these days. Mussina: hurt. Wang: hurt. Pavano: hurt (no surprise). Pettitte: hurt.

And Fansworth has already blown two games.

Eesh. Rough first week or two …

I’m not a big A-Rod either, but he’s off to one heckuva start. As long as he keeps his mouth shut and just plays ball, I’ve got no issues with him. But we’ll see how long this media silence lasts.I’m not a big A-Rod either, but he’s off to one heckuva start. As long as he keeps his mouth shut and just plays ball, I’ve got no issues with him. But we’ll see how long this media silence lasts.

A few nights ago I was having dinner with a few people, and we started talking about Imus and his "nappy-headed hos" comment. And not long into the conversation I realized something about myself that I can’t seem to shake.

When I first heard about Imus’s comments, the words that most offended me was "nappy." I took this as a racist comment that he had no business uttering. I doubt that he’s actually racist, but said it simply for shock value. But it was a terrible–and A few nights ago I was having dinner with a few people, and we started talking about Imus and his "nappy-headed hos" comment. And not long into the conversation I realized something about myself that I can’t seem to shake.

When I first heard about Imus’s comments, the words that most offended me was "nappy." I took this as a racist comment that he had no business uttering. I doubt that he’s actually racist, but said it simply for shock value. But it was a terrible–and stupid–thing to say. My point is, I was focused on "nappy."

But a few people I was with–women–were far less offended by the word "nappy" as they were by "hos." Up until that moment, I hadn’t thought of it that way. I took "hos" to be the far less bothersome phrase, and now that I’ve had a little time to think about it, I can see that I was far more focused on the words he used than the context in which he used them. Imus was talking about female basketball players. Talented, hard-working women who compete at a very high level, who can only remain at the level through consistent determination.

So, indeed, calling them "hos" is pretty horrible. It degrades them as human beings. More horrible than "nappy-headed?" I don’t know that it’s important to distinguish, or if there’s a way to do so. We’ll call this one a two-fer. Imus doubled up on his sickly insults.

For me, however, it reminded me that there’s a tremendous distinction about perception, among all people–and all types of people–including gender. That men and women see the world differently, through a different looking glass. I’m not saying better or worse, per se, but different. And it’s got me wanting to learn more about how women at large view the world, because I clearly have much to learn. I consider myself to be a pretty understanding guy who’s genuinely interested in the plight of others, but I’m reminded once again just how easy it is to get caught up in my own concerns, unintentionally overlooking that there are many other ways to perceive and interpret the world around me. Mine is but one point of view.

I have much to learn. And here’s one place for me to start.

It saddens me that Kurt Vonnegut died yesterday, but as I think of his contributions, I smile, because he is simply one of my heroes. He has had more impact on me as a writer than perhaps anyone else. I am grateful for what he passed on, what he shared, and can say with no hesitation that I would not have evolved as a writer as much as I have without had I not read his books.

In fact, Kurt Vonnegut had a very real impact on Finders Keepers. Many of Kurt Vonnegut’s books had a sci-fi bent toIt saddens me that Kurt Vonnegut died yesterday, but as I think of his contributions, I smile, because he is simply one of my heroes. He has had more impact on me as a writer than perhaps anyone else. I am grateful for what he passed on, what he shared, and can say with no hesitation that I would not have evolved as a writer as much as I have without had I not read his books.

In fact, Kurt Vonnegut had a very real impact on Finders Keepers. Many of Kurt Vonnegut’s books had a sci-fi bent to them, but they were not hardcore sci-fi. Same with Finders Keepers. And while Vonnegut’s books had a dark, comedic bent–darker than my own writing–his work had an underlying compassion for his fellow man; I hope mine does as well.

In particular, I modeled the pacing of Finders Keepers directly after Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle. The topics aren’t the same, but in Cat’s Cradle, Vonnegut wrote many, many, many chapters–all of them just a page or two–and I connected with the style right off. So when it was time to start writing Finders Keepers, I chose the same convention: Many short chapters. I did this intentionally. There were several reasons I chose this style of storytelling, but Vonnegut was a big influence. I doubt I would have written Finders Keepers as such without having read Cat’s Cradle.

By now I’ve read most of his books–not all–but with the exception of Shakespeare, I’ve read more of Vonnegut’s work than I’ve read of any other writer. His work has influenced me in very specific ways. There aren’t many writers whose work–book after book–stayed with me. His did.

The Sirens of Titan is one of my all-time favorite books. Easily in my top five. Cat’s Cradle. Slaughterhouse Five. Mother Night. God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater.

Kurt Vonnegut is no longer with us, but his words remain. I treasure them.

On a business trip in Seattle, and as advertised, it’s little rainy, although it looks like it’s starting to clear up now.

This is actually my second trip to Seattle; I was here about 4 years ago. Actually, it was the week before I got married, so that was a bit of a hectic trip. I hit the Space Needle last time, so yesterday I went down the shops on the wharf on Pike Street. It wasn’t quite what I expected–in my head there were going to be more restaurants– but it’s a neat little shoppinOn a business trip in Seattle, and as advertised, it’s little rainy, although it looks like it’s starting to clear up now.

This is actually my second trip to Seattle; I was here about 4 years ago. Actually, it was the week before I got married, so that was a bit of a hectic trip. I hit the Space Needle last time, so yesterday I went down the shops on the wharf on Pike Street. It wasn’t quite what I expected–in my head there were going to be more restaurants– but it’s a neat little shopping area, with used book stores and the like.

Although I found one thing a little … unusual. At the end of the shopping–outside–there’s a little park; just a small green space and some benches. The weather wasn’t half bad yesterday so I bought a sandwhich and ate out there. There was a good amount of people, so at first glance it seemed perfectly okay. But when I got a little closer, I found that among the tourists and locals, there was quite the seedy element there also. Drug dealers, skanked out users. It was pretty dirty. I had heard this might be so, but for whatever reason I hadn’t really believed it. I do now.

I didn’t feel totally unsafe, but not totally safe either. I peaked over my shoulder now and again to make sure I wasn’t about to be robbed. I’m not sure if there was ever any real threat, but the openness of the drug element–in such a prominent area–caught me a little off guard. It would be like walking down Broadway in Times Square–today’s Times square–and having the dealers mixed in with the tourist traps and new high-rise office towers. They no longer mix.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not holding this against Seattle per se–I like the area overall–but my trip to Pike Street wasn’t exactly what I expected. I did pick up a very tasty apple and a jumbo, wheat-free cookie, so maybe it’s a wash …

Just recently I started reading ?In Search of Stones: A Pilgrimage of Faith, Reason and Discovery,? by Dr. M. Scott Peck, and he noted something early on that stopped me in my tracks. This is what he wrote:

?For any single thing of importance, there are multiple reasons.?

The reason I?m so glad to have read this phrase?and his subsequent explanation?is that I get particularly frustrated when anyone, whether it be groups or individuals, try to oversimplify the reasons why … of anythinJust recently I started reading ?In Search of Stones: A Pilgrimage of Faith, Reason and Discovery,? by Dr. M. Scott Peck, and he noted something early on that stopped me in my tracks. This is what he wrote:

?For any single thing of importance, there are multiple reasons.?

The reason I?m so glad to have read this phrase?and his subsequent explanation?is that I get particularly frustrated when anyone, whether it be groups or individuals, try to oversimplify the reasons why … of anything. (To be fair, I?m not immune to this type of thinking either. But it still frustrates me.)

On a very basic level, why am I a Yankees fan instead of a Mets fan (like that could ever happen?). Well, my dad was a Yankee fan, so that?s a pretty logical start, and the Yankees had a lot of exciting players?Reggie, Guidry, Catfish, Thurman, Willie Randolph, The Goose?and were back to their winning ways? But why did I even like baseball in the first place? Why did I like sports? Not all kids do.

Besides, I became an Islanders fan even though my dad was a Rangers fan. Why? Not sure. I remember liking the Islanders? home jerseys and I liked that they were a new franchise. Their inaugural season was 1972 and I was born in 1971, so I felt a bond with them. And was I rebelling against my dad in some way? I think that might have had something to do with it. But by the early ?80s I had grown tired of hockey overall and stopped watching it all together.

And yet I?m as much a Yankees fan now as I ever was. Why? Again, not sure. But this is how I am.

This extends to all elements of our personalities, and of events big and small. On a simplistic level, I could say that I met my wife through online dating. And that?s true. But how we actually met is far more complex and interesting than that (it?s a story for another day; but one definitely worth telling, and I will).

Another happening from my own life is: how did I come to write Finders Keepers? Indeed, it is based on a backpacking trip I took through Europe. But why did I choose to write a novel about it? Why do I write at all? Why did I go to Europe in the first place and how did that come to pass? And when I was there, why did I make every little decision that I did in just the ways and sequence that I did, which led to future decisions?

And on and on.

Though not a phrase coined by me, I find that it nevertheless is a universal truism: the more I know, the more I know that I don?t know. Which actually piques my curiosity. I have developed this sometimes unquenchable thirst to discover the mysteries of the cosmos. Believe me when I say I wasn?t always like this. I used to be exactly the opposite.

As a child, and even as a younger man, I was terribly introverted in my thoughts?even if I was often loud, brash, outspoken … and annoying. But now I?m intrigued by others. But what they do, how they act, what they think. And I spend a good deal of my time trying to figure out how best to navigate my own life while other people are doing the same. I?m fascinated by the fabric of the universe, how the random maybe isn?t so random, how coincidence maybe isn?t coincidence at all.

And how our struggles, frustrations and disappointments can be amazing opportunities to learn, if only I can pull myself out of my grief and self-absorption long enough to realize that I?m given chance after chance after chance to grow as person.

Getting back to my original thought, then, why do I think this way now? I don?t know. I just know that I [i]do[/i] think this way. And why didn?t I think this way before? I have some idea, but ultimately, I don?t know that either. It?s just the way I was.

I think to some degree we all want the cosmos and all the pieces in it to be easily digestible and easy to comprehend, so we try to trim life down to its simplest terms, even though doing so can have us viewing the life we live with a very narrow view. We all want quick and easy answers. We want our days to be fruitful and without struggle. And we want them to be as simple as possible. Even here I?m oversimplifying. Of course I don?t think everyone takes a simplistic view of the world around them or at all moments. But it?s undeniably a part of culture, and in my opinion, not for the better.

Without complexity, without nuance and layers, we would be as stiff and lifeless as bad TV. No one happenstance, no one event, makes us who and how we are. We are a melding of experience, biology and the elements and mysteries still unknown to us.

As Dr. Peck says:

?For any single thing of importance, there are multiple reasons.?

We are a cluster. And that fascinates me.

The one question I get most often in regard to Finders Keepers is: what?s it about?

Fair enough. Logical first question.

Also a tricky one.

Most stories are more standard, or straightforward. For example:

After discovering that her fianc? was cheating on her with her best friend, Bonnie takes off for a summer escape to the Bahamas. There she meets a charming young writer from Denver whose family is far more mysterious–and deadly–than she ever could have imagined. (Hey, thThe one question I get most often in regard to Finders Keepers is: what?s it about?

Fair enough. Logical first question.

Also a tricky one.

Most stories are more standard, or straightforward. For example:

After discovering that her fianc? was cheating on her with her best friend, Bonnie takes off for a summer escape to the Bahamas. There she meets a charming young writer from Denver whose family is far more mysterious–and deadly–than she ever could have imagined. (Hey, that wasn?t bad. I just made that up in like 30 seconds!)

But you get my point. Easy to fit into a box.

But Finders Keepers is a tale of what I like to call cosmic lunacy. Here’s my pitch:

[i]Finders Keepers is a little bit different. It?s loosely based on a backpacking trip I took through Europe, set against a mad dash for a jar that just might contain the essence of the Universe[/i].

Like I said. Cosmic lunacy. Not as easy to put into a box.

From this, however, there are two points I want to talk about.

When I give this summary–this pitch–I pretty much get just one of two reactions. The first usually goes something like this:

?Whoa! That?s freakin? cool. I gotta check that out. Sounds amazing. I can?t think of anything out there quite like it. When?s it coming out? When can I read it??

I kinda like that reaction.

The other reaction usually goes something like this:

…

…

(blank stare, glazed-over look, with the person I’m talking to essentially thinking: ?Uh … yeah. Universe. Right. I?m going to leave now and hang out with the other grownups. I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about, and I don’t want to. Please go away.")

In fact, this happened to me just the other day. I was explaining my book to a friend of the family, someone in his 60s, and after delivering my pitch, his response was response No. 2?[i]the look[/i].

I kinda like this reaction a bit less than the other one.

There?s nothing quite like having someone look at you like you?re dumber than dirt. Although … the look on their face is almost priceless, because my pitch is so far beyond what they expect me to say, it?s almost worth the subsequent rejection.

Almost.

My other point is related to the first. Because Finders Keepers is indeed outside the norm–cosmic lunacy isn’t exactly run-of-the-mill–and because I [i]know[/i] that I?m pretty much going to get one of those two reactions, sometimes I get caught off guard when I speak to someone who I already think will give me the ?you?re a moron? look.

When that happens, I occasionally fumble over my words exactly because I don?t [i]want [/i]to get that look, even though I know?without a doubt?that at least some people [i]will[/i] react that way. And once in a while, when I assume that?s just how they?ll react, I preemptively feel like a jackass because I think [i]they?ll[/i] think I?m a jackass.

That?s something I need to change. Pronto.

Fact: not everybody is going to like what I do. Nothing will ever change that. And as I was reminded not too long ago, this business is filled with rejection. If I can?t handle that rejection, I should think very strongly about doing something else.

Doesn?t mean I have to like the rejection, but I need to be prepared for it, and be prepared to handle it in a way that allows me to keep my self-esteem.

In regard to getting caught off guard, it?s really just a matter of me practicing my pitch. Sometimes I?ll go a week or two, or maybe more, when nobody new asks me about my book, and I forget the exact phrasing I like to use. I fumble for the words. And especially with a high-concept book, the pitch is key. Either I hook them or I don?t. And if I don?t, I don?t get much of a chance to get them back.

So a little more regular practice on my pitch and I should be good to go. Along the way I?ll hold onto as many [i]Wow[/i] reactions as I can, letting them counterbalance the blank stares. [i]The look.[/i] It?s one heckuv an extreme, but it?s the world I live in.

Welcome to Finders Keepers.

Post edited by: rcolchamiro, at: 2007/04/05 20:26

Post edited by: rcolchamiro, at: 2007/04/05 21:42

Post edited by: rcolchamiro, at: 2007/04/06 08:53