A Valentine's Public Service Announcement

Many years ago, my husband David was visiting his friend Fred Bramante up in New Hampshire when the subject of D-I-V-O-R-C-E was broached. I don’t know HOW the conversation came up, and I don’t want to know WHY the topic surfaced, but I suspect the boys were feeling pretty frisky as they buzzed around in Fred’s sleek black BMW. Both men are music merchants, with David owning “Steinway Piano Gallery of St. Louis” and Fred owning (are you ready for this?) “Daddy’s Junky Music Store,” a chain of 20 guitar shops. It might seem like the guys are worlds apart, but they have a shared history as entrepreneurs in a tough business. And at the time, both were fathers to demanding toddlers and husbands to tired wives.

“Ever think about divorcing your wife?” asked David.

“Sure,” said Fred. “The thought crosses my mind. But whenever it does, I get this vision. I see the sign over my flagship store.”

“The sign?” said David.

“Yeah, the sign.” Fred sighed. “Mommy’s Junky Music Store.”

So with Valentine’s Day approaching, I’m delivering this Public Service Announcement to all you husbands out there: “Don’t blow this holiday. Take a tip from Fred. The stakes are too high. You do not want to get divorced.”

Especially in this economy.

You can talk about your stock portfolio taking a dive, you can curse the name Bernie
Madoff, you can worry about the solvency of your bank, but if you want to stay financially sound, you do NOT want to make a trip to divorce court. According to research scientist Jay Zagorsky of Ohio State University, divorce reduces a person’s wealth by 77% compared to that of a single
person.

Furthermore, according to Linda J. Waite and Maggie Gallagher in their book The Case for Marriage, staying hitched is good for your career, with married men getting more promotions and receiving higher performance ratings.

So if you haven’t done your Valentine’s Day shopping, you need to get busy--FAST. Allow me to assist with some simple rules for pleasing that special woman in your life:

1. Buy her a dozen red roses—hang the cost. And count them before you hand the suckers over. I once received eleven and set up such a howl the neighbors called the cops. “You only love me ELEVEN roses worth?” I moaned.

2. Buy her chocolate. A few pieces of the best you can afford. It’s the luxury that counts, not the calories.

3. Stay away from Victoria’s Secret. Oh, I know what you think—“I’ll get her something sexy.” That’s for YOU, pal, not for her. Besides, you’ll probably buy the wrong size. Their clothes only fit anorexic pre-teens with implants. (If you married an anorexic pre-teen with implants, all I have to say is, "Oooo. Yuck. You are a sick puppy.")

4. Buy her a beautiful card with lovely, romantic sentiments. (Hint: If there’s a dog or a golfer on the front, it’s not going to make her happy. Trust me on this.)

5. Make reservations at a special restaurant. A quick swing through Mickey D’s will not cut the mustard. Let her know in ADVANCE that you’re going out to eat. See, part of the joy is anticipation. (Review the song by Carole King a couple hundred times for help with this concept.)
6. Resist, resist, resist, resist the urge to buy any of the following: lawnmowers, garbage disposals, snowblowers, weed-whackers, drills, sanders, car parts, dishwashers, vacuum cleaners, clothes dryers, clothes washers, tools (even pink ones), and especially big screen TVs.

7. Buy her a copy of Paper, Scissors, Death and pre-order Cut, Crop & Die, the second book in the series, from Amazon or your local independent bookseller. That way she'll have a gift for now (plus a code for 50 free digital prints) and a surprise from you later. (And when the book arrives in June, you can smile and say, "See? I love you twelve months a year, darling. I don't need Valentine's Day to show you how much I care.")

And it goes without saying, you should tell her you love being married to her. Repeat after me, "Honey, I love you. I adore you. And I wouldn't want to be married to anybody but you." (Practice looking at her soulfully as you say this. It won't work if you are in the midst of changing channels on your big screen TV.)

Because you do love being married to her, you really do, especially given the state of the economy.

Getting Belly-to-Belly This Holiday Season

There’s a rule in sales: Nothing replaces getting belly-to-belly with your customers. And when the economy is tough, that's the best time to find out exactly what your customers (readers) think.

As I approach folks in bookstores or scrapbook stores, I get belly-to-belly with them. I focus carefully on their faces, and I take note of their reactions. Lately, I’ve discovered “hot buttons” in my book that cause readers to want to buy Paper, Scissors, Death.

* Every woman’s nightmare is discovering her husband has been keeping their financial situation a secret. After the death of my protagonist Kiki’s husband, she discovers they are broke and in debt—and women relate to this. I shouldn’t be surprised that readers put themselves in Kiki’s Keds. I remember working at a stock brokerage years ago and seeing widows come in carrying stock certificates, which they thought could be turned in for cash. Sometimes they didn’t have access to the family checking account. Often they had no income of their own. Sometimes they discovered their names weren’t on the deeds to their property. They thought they were provided for, they had been told not to worry, but their worst fears were realized when their husbands died.

* Every woman secretly fears that whatever security and status she has in life will suddenly “go away.” When I tell them that Kiki goes from feeling on top of the social heap to the bottom, they smile. Sad smiles. They understand. I’m currently reading Queen Bees and Wannabes, which chronicles the social lives of teenage girls. Huh, the author could have been talking about grown women. We have cliques. We are NOT team players. We fear the “mean girl.” We are awash in frenemies. There are those on the “inside,” the pals of the Queen Bee, and those on the “outside,” those who are social pariahs. It doesn’t change much after high school. Oh, the real estate changes. We no longer walk the hallways or hang around by our lockers. But the behavior is ingrained.

And here’s another interesting observation: My customers say they are buying the book for “a friend.” But as they reach for their copy, they drop their eyes and add, “But I think I’ll read it first.”

It’s not just about the economy. It’s about who we are. Most women I know do more for others than we do for ourselves. In our culture, you are a "good" woman, a "good" mother, a "good" friend, if you are always available (at least emotionally) and put other people first. A woman is "selfish" if she takes time for herself--or uses family resources for her own enjoyment. Her time is not her own. Her life is not her own. As Virginia Woolf said, we need a room of our own, a sacred spot where we come first...especially during the holidays.

Last year I asked my scrapbooking friends who subscribe to my bi-monthly online magazine how they cope with holiday stress. This year, I've posted their replies on my blog http://www.joannaslan.blogspot.com/ Even as I posted them, I felt a lightening of my load. This year is particularly stressful for all of us. Never in our lifetimes have we seen such economic turmoil. I hope I can have the self-discipline to take care of myself. I hope you'll do the same.

Oh, Say Can You See?

For the past eight weeks I’ve been traveling across the country, watching the odometer on my car flip past 100,000, eating too many Combos (cheddar is my favorite), and sleeping in too many hotels. (Correction: Trying to sleep. I’ve been awakened by folks pounding on the door next to me because “Jennifer” forgot to set her alarm and was about to miss the shuttle, by a smoke alarm, and by a hotel staff who forgot to re-set their clocks to Daylight Savings Time.)

And what have I seen?

A glorious, panoramic vision of our country. From the Appalachian mountains where my vehicle went up and down and round and round like a child’s toy, to the waving wheat-filled plains of Kansas, to the big muddy river defining the state borders, to a huge restaurant in Sikeston MO where they throw hot, yeasty rolls at the diners…this is a land so vast, so great that my heart has ached for the love of it.

Today, being Veterans Day, I pause to give thanks that we are free. My mother’s father fought inWWII—she still owns his service revolver. My other grandfather was one of 704 who survived the bombing of the USS Franklin by the Japanese—I have his handwritten account. My husband’s father served on a base in Germany—we still have a collection of Hummels he bought for his bride. My father served on planes during the Korean conflict—he send home a tiny kimono for me.

Perhaps the most poignant service was one I nearly overlooked. I own a grainy “Brownie” snapshot of my uncle in uniform in Korea. For years I’ve admired how handsome Uncle Dick was, with his profile and features so much like a young Johnny Carson. Then I decided to enlarge the photo and use it on a scrapbook page. That’s when I discovered that the “wall” he was standing in front of was actually a bunker made of sandbags.

Suddenly, I saw that image in a new light. I realized my uncle planned it as a “goodbye” photo, a last image in case he didn’t survive.

Often in life we think we “see”. We believe we know what’s what. Who’s who. How it’s hanging. But a slight shift of perspective can open our eyes.

Let me offer a suggestion: A week ago, voters waited seven hours at the polls here in St. Louis. To honor all our veterans, why not make Election Day a national holiday? When we lived in England, our neighbors were shocked that our country--which touts free and fair elections—does NOT give our citizens the day off. Instead, we make it difficult to cast a ballot. Wouldn’t that be a better way of honoring all those who served our country? Who fought and died to make sure we have the right to choose our leaders?

That’s how I see it.

Writing the Story You Need to Write

“I’d feel a lot better about working on this book, if I knew someone was going to buy it. I mean, this is a lot of work, especially not knowing if it’ll ever get published,” said a woman I met recently.

Well, duh. (I didn’t say that, but I thought it!)

My husband and son are avid poker players, but I’m the REAL gambler in this house. A poker play is over in minutes. I labor for months—years—and don’t know if I’m holding a winning hand. Even after the book is done, there’s no guarantee the public will fork out good money to own it.

Who, me insecure?

So, yeah, my complaining friend had a point. As my agent says (with a laugh), “All writers are insecure.” But who wouldn’t be? How many people labor without any surety of reward? The creeping doubts run deep in this business. And I’m particularly vulnerable right now because of a new work-in-progress. I’m grinding away thinking, “Maybe I’m just wasting my time.”

When author-friend Sharon Shinn asked me, “How’s your writing coming?” I didn’t hold back.

I said, “See, I’ve written this YA (Young Adult) book that might never see the light of day. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, but I just HAD to write it.”

Sharon Shinn's Advice

Sharon shrugged. She explained that when she’s written a manuscript on spec, she tells herself: “This is a story I wanted to write, and if it doesn’t sell, I’ve written what I wanted to write. Now I’ve learned something, and I have more experience.”

Then she takes whatever is good from that book and applies it to her next endeavor. Once the story that was nagging her is “out of her head,” and on paper, she can move on. Her course of action must have merit. Check out http://www.sharonshinn.net/ She’s had an extraordinary career, written twelve novels, and manages to work full-time.

She’s right. I wanted to write that story, and by golly, I did! I freed up a whole section of my head to move on to other ideas, such as the marketing plan I’m completing for Paper, Scissors, Death (September 2008). Check out the way-cool cover. (Kevin, you ROCK!)

The Universe Taps Me on the Shoulder

As often happens, the Universe decided to make SURE it had my attention. Right after my talk with Sharon, I happened upon a YouTube video of Paul Potts.

Potts was a salesman at Carphone Warehouse in South Wales. His whole life he dreamed of being an opera singer. But his career wasn’t getting any traction. He dithered about entering Britain’s Got Talent, a televised talent show judged by Simon Cowell. Potts couldn’t decide. He flipped a coin. He “won” the toss and became a contestant.

You have to see this to believe it. Trust me…this might be the lift your heart needs:

http://www.maniacworld.com/Phone-Salesman-Amazes-Crowd.html

Paul Potts sang the song he had to sing. He just kept singing it until someone noticed. (Did you catch the sly looks between judges? Ho Ho Ho, indeed!)

My New Motivational Signage

I’ve put a small sign above my computer. It says: Paul Potts.

How about you? What keeps you motivated? How do you handle the downside of being a writer? What keeps you "singing the song" or writing the story you need to write?

Joanna

PS Have a Merry Holiday and a prosperous, healthy and happy New Year.