Something to Be Proud Of

In May of 1987, I put on a stupidly expensive evening gown that I'd bought (while still in high school) without any hope of ever getting to wear the thing. If you're friends with me on Facebook, you know I have a thing about wildly impractical gowns. Even though my day to day uniform consists of cut-offs, flip flops and a tee shirt, I'm all about every woman buying at least one such gown in her life. I wish I could tell you I'd limited it to one. What I can tell you is that in May of 1987 I finally had a legit reason to wear my silly evening gown out in public. (Yeah, sorry, I have a photo of it, but only that - it's not digitized. I wish. Frankly, it was over the top and slightly garish, but hey. It was the 80s. I was an artiste. O_o)

I got to wear it for a graduation ceremony that almost didn't get to take place.

It was the graduating class from Cornish College of the Arts. My class from the acting department was graduating ten people. Three years before, we'd started with twenty. Of those twenty, only eight remained (we'd gained a few along the way, too.) Attrition was a THING. An acting conservatory sounds like something that ought to be a walk in the park, doesn't it? It was three years of mentally, emotionally, and physically hard, hard work. Long hours. And lots and lots of digging around in your own emotional guts. For a lot of people, it got too hard and they turned away from it.

Yet even for those of us who dug into each challenge, our paths were not necessarily assured. Each year, we had to be invited back to the conservatory in order to continue studying there. We faced three hurdles, GPA, a professionalism score solicited from teachers and peers, and our final hurdle, a frank assessment by the teaching staff as to whether, in their opinion, we had a future in the craft. That last one came down to a yes/no vote. Clear all three and you got to enroll. Fail any one of them and you'd get a form letter explaining that your time at Cornish had come to an end. Don't call us, kid.

Between my junior and senior year at the conservatory, my stats were solid. Yet when my teachers voted on my potential, I split the staff. Half of them wanted me gone. The other half just as adamantly wanted me to stay. The director of the program declined to break the tie and none of the teachers could talk any of the other teachers into changing his or her vote. So, by the skin of my teeth, I got to stay and I got to graduate. I only knew about it because one of the teachers took me aside and told me about it, after. He also told me that the teachers who'd voted to keep me in the conservatory all cited the same reason. Sheer determination and stick-to-itiveness. He said that if success came down to never giving in, I had it in my teeth.

I'd had no idea that I'd made that impression on anyone - that I was determined (I was). I was disconcerted, and maybe a little defensive about nearly being kicked out, but I was also proud. It was another challenge that made me work all the harder that final year. And I was prouder still to get to graduate despite the doubts of half of my teachers.

This story plays directly into what I'm proudest of in my writing. I won't give up. I've stuck to it and will continue to. Slings, arrows, and outrageous fortune notwithstanding. I keep on keeping on. I have story gripped in my teeth, and I am that bull dog that will not let go. There's no graduating this time. And no one voting over my fate. Just me and the stories. Which in some ways is too bad. Because it means not getting to wear another silly evening gown in public.

I vote we create a writers tea somewhere fancy. White tie. Impractical evening gowns encouraged. We gather once a year to celebrate everyone who stuck with writing, no matter what. Determination. Stick-to-itiveness. That's something to be proud of.

Foolproof Networking

Networking. You already know it's good. You already know you need to be doing it. However. It is also true that money doesn't grow on trees. If, like me, you cannot get to conferences to do your networking in person (which is the ideal) all is not lost!

This is why Al Gore invented the internet.

Online memberships are networking opportunities. Any email list or group you belong to - networking. Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Reddit, Tumblr, your social media du jour - all networking ops.

Even though this is a great 'spot the dork' photo, even class reunions can be networking opportunities:

A few of my fellow Cornish grads. When I finally manage to produce an audiobook, I'll have several perfect choices for voice actors.

What does networking mean anyway? Cultivating relationships. Bet you thought I was going to run on longer than that. Nope. It's supposed to be a simple task, but it is as fraught as your first date was - all that fear of rejection! And of wondering what they'll think of you!

Here's a trick for handling networking (wish I could tell you it was fool proof, but networking queen I am not) - networking is NOT the place to talk about you. It's for finding out what everyone else does. Likes. Thinks. Believes. Values. You DO get to talk about you, but that blend should be at least 60 them/40 you. You network by having something to offer someone else. Whether that be time, talent, or knowledge. Offer. When someone asks questions on social media and you can answer, give it a shot. You may not get responses initially. Eventually you will. And when you need something, ask! This is part of your 40% - other people feel good when they get to help someone.

A true story as case in point: I'm in the middle of a draft. The research is destroying me because Civil War. Let me explain the level of available detail. O_o  Anyway, I needed to know whether scent hounds could track someone who was inside a vehicle. Many long, frustrating hours trying to figure that out and I stumble across a blog written by a woman who trains bloodhounds for police work. She had incredible content and detail. So I emailed her cold, asking my question. But in return for her reply, I made darned sure to offer what tiny little bit I had to offer: mention in the acknowledgements and a link to her site. A day later, I had the most amazing and generous encyclopedic answer. Short answer: Yep. Those dogs CAN track someone who's inside a car. Kat Albrecht is her name. The scent hound website. And her newest venture: producing live mystery events.

So networking need not mean jetting (or road tripping) to conferences. There are distinct advantages to conferences - there's nothing quite like getting to meet people face to face, but also? Bar. So long as James' excellent advice is followed. No being THAT guy or gal.

Help people. You'll be surprised who turns around to want to help you, too.