The temptations of success

What fun - I ran into a former co-worker at the transfer station on Saturday. He's still at the company I left not long ago, and it was interesting talking to someone I used to just interact with in the office, in a social setting (the dump being a main social nexus of the town where I live -- after all, what's more telling and intimate, than your garbage? When you stand shoulder-to-shoulder with someone, dumping your telltale cardboard boxes into the compactor bin, you learn a thing or two). But after the initial bashfulness passed, and I got the "go" light on my decision to leave the company and take a break (some folks take it as a personal affront, when you bail out of their company), I got into telling him about my projects. And it was great.

It was great, because I actually got to talk to a human being about my work -- about Fuel, about podcasting, about the many aspects of this PEAPOD project activity, most of which centers around the book (at this point in time).

Working online is great, but you don't get the same kind of feedback that you get from live interaction. Which is why some people will always prefer to read to an almost-empty room of 4 live people, instead of a virtual room of 400 people. You can actually get more feedback from the 4 live people. And they'll actually feed you energy. Not just e-mail you their thoughts.

Anyway, what came up when I was talking to this fellow I used to work with, was that old feeling of the projects I used to work on at that old company. The company I discuss in Fuel. I told him that "Fuel" is as much about how we feed our own energy, and how we keep going in our work, as it is about automobile fuel. It's about the Internet craze back in the late 90's/early 2000, when everything was so intense and we were so INTO IT!!!

Glimmer of recognition there. And it occurred to me that my writing this book, might be a catharsis for everyone who was caught up in the malestrom of Web Development before that bubble burst, when we were so focused on our success, that we let everything else just kinda fall to the wayside.

Our personal lives. Our relationships. Our hobbies. Our time off. Our vacations. Our outside interests. I mean, so much fell under the wheels of Web Development Initiatives for everyone involved... designers, developers, analysts... the whole lot of us. And the patterns we set up in the late 90's are sadly still in place, in many instances. I've been caught up in those kinds of nothing-else-matters-but-this-work projects many, many times since 2000, and the result is always the same: The project gets done, at considerable personal cost. The stars of the project pay steep prices in health and sanity, the folks rowing behind them pay prices as well, and in the end, while the project may have been Very, Very Important while it was going on, in the end, it's forgotten... eclipsed by the next Very, Very Important Project which demands our total focus and concentration.

Meanwhile, our spouses and children and hobbies and interests take the back seat to our professionally induced OCD, and we slip farther and farther away from what's important to us.

Honestly, isn't there a better way to work? The combination of the Information Economy with the Industrial Revolution is a recipe for personal disaster. Too many managers DON'T GET that you can't just herd creative-class producers like sheep. We need to be led, not driven like animals or machines. We need to be inspired, not threatened. We need to be encouraged, not demoralized. But because management is all too often in a world separate and apart from their creative-class manage-ees, they don't get it. They can't get it. And their managers don't see the point in encouraging them to get it. Because if they're in a position of advanced authority, chances are their careers were built from behaving more like drovers than Che Guevera, who still manages to inspire people, long after he's dead.

It's a sad, sad state, and until people figure out how to effectively manage creative-class folks in a professional environment, I'm not having anything to do with the permanent full-time scene.

The one place where employers could fix this management cluelessness is with HR. Those folks are supposedly the subject matter experts on "human capital" (until someone starts treating me more like a human, than a form of capital, they won't have my confidence or my trust). Those folks are supposed to be able to guide management in how best to handle the folks in their fold. But the vast majority of HR folks I've know, over the years, have not had the boldness or the spine to really stand up for what's right -- how many times I've heard an HR rep proclaim "We're not sending your job to India!" (much to the contrary of all pertinent indicators) I cannot say. And each time they did, I believed less and less in the ability of HR to truly tell the truth and to stand up for what's right and good.

The HR folks of the world are in a prime position to effect substantial positive change, when it comes to managing creative class people and helping management get a friggin' clue about what works and what doesn't. But from what I've seen, they're a whole lot more interested in preserving the status quo and pandering to the wishes of upper management (so they get to keep their jobs), than they are in serving their organizations as a whole.

Keep in mind, I used to work in HR -- at HP, as well as at one of Boston's top-ranked law firms -- so I know wherefrom I speak.

My solution for all of this? Remove myself from the equation. Get myself into a position where I don't have to deal with HR folks at all, so they're unvexed by my personal professional morals, and I'm unaffected by their politicial machinations. We can both peacefully co-exist. Just don't put me in the same room as them.

Anyway, enough bitching about how working in HR turns people into compulsive liars (which is shorthand for the politically correct identification for "unwilling or unable to discern accurate information and disseminate it to those affected")... Yes, I've got an ax to grind, and yes, I am still pissed off about how the dot-com bubble totally screwed up my life for those handful of years, not to mention cheated me out of my vacation in England, when that fuel protest and crisis presented quite the occasion to experience history in the making.

Okay, okay, so I'm not a helpless innocent in that equation. I participated in the dot-com frenzy, myself. It wasn't like someone held a gun to my head and forced me to participate up to my ears. I'm as culpable as the the systems in place that made it so easy -- even expedient -- to completely and totally screw the other aspects of my life, for the sake of a pat on the head and the right to live to see another day.

But I really do think that that time in the last days of the Bubble, really did a lot of damage to people and the inner fabric of our society -- at least in regards to the society built around the advance thinkers and creators on the leading edge of the web.

I suspect that there's been a whole class of people in some sort of adrenal distress since 1998 or so. And I suspect that mind-altering activities (be they taking designer drugs or unbalanced sex or alcohol abuse or loud music piped in through eardrum-piercing earbuds or extreme sports that threaten your life and limb, all in the name of fun) have somehow warped the psyche of the very people who are most inclined to create the culture of this land.

There's something just not quite right about the way we've gone over the past 10 years or so. Small wonder, we march into war, our eyes glazed over with adrenaline rush, howling, "Bring it on, mothafucka!" Small wonder, ritalin is being administered to more and more adults, as well as to kids.


We've shorted ourselves out, for sure. And we've gotten to the point where we can't even tell what's good and useful in our lives anymore, and vacations turn into nothing more than expensive diversions from where we'd much rather be spending our time -- in front of the computer or in a friggin 6x6 foot oatmeal colored box, whose fabric cover is no subsitute for the rubber of a padded room.

I mean, it's absolutely bizarre, to witness what's happened to the huge armies of creative, iconoclastic individuals who could be at the leading edge of Figuring Shit Out and Making Things Right... Once we were bold and brave and willing to take real risks. But we wore ourselves out on one too many crazy projects managed by People Who Didn't Have A Clue, and when we got the taste of a Porche's New Car Smell that we purchased with our stock options (when there still were stock options), we decided we're content to trade our sanity and a sense of purpose and meaning in the world a nicely feathered nest and that 42-inch big-screen plasma t.v., and the Gazillion-Gig, Multimillion Megahertz, You-Can't-Count-High-Enough-To-Understand-How-Fast-And-Powerful-This-Machine-Is PC (people, get real, already -- it's a *personal computer*, not a portal to an interstellar location far, far from earth).

Small wonder, everybody's so screwed up. Small wonder, the pharma companies of the world are doing brisk business. When all is said and done, someone somewhere found out how creative class people can be tamed and directed back into -- of all places -- the mainstream.

That's the hold I'm trying to break, in these couple of months I'm sitting out the 9-5 grind. I've decided that I'm taking February off, as well as January. The creative class drovers of the world can bite me, for now. They'll get their crack at me in March. For now, I need to regain some of what made me who and what I am, once upon a time, before the Internet happened and that friggin' bubble started to grow. I need to be back to my own self -- a self that's partly gone, partly eroded away, because of my slavish enthusiasm to the belief that I was indeed creating a new world as I worked, not just creating something new for the same old powers to manipulate and trade in for cold, hard cash. I was blind, so very blind, to the depths of deceit and manipulation some people will sink to, to fill the gaping holes in their souls (not just one hole, mind you, but many, left there by years of overwork and the belief that you have to pay to play). I underestimated the evils that men (and women) will do, to get What They Want, no matter what the cost. I overestimated my resilience and took far too little time to Step Away and recup what I'd lost.

I lost a lot in those years -- perhaps more, while the bubble was growing, than when it burst, quite frankly.

But enough carping. I've got other blogs to write. And I've got a book to finish off.

Onward! And not just Upward -- Inward, as well!

Substance in a sea of sound-bites

What a manic little hobby this blogging business is. I say "business" because everybody, it seems, is trying to "monetize" it. It's understandable, of course. Not making any money at internet activities was (part of) what brought us all down around 2000-2001, and nobody wants to go throught *that* again. And so, we blog. Manically. Frantically.

As though our lives depended upon it, which of course we partly think they do. If we can't get out there and make our "internet properties" economically viable, we'll have to stop. We'll have to quit. And we'll have to go back to regular jobs with regular bosses and regular schedules. That's the kiss of death for our creative inclinations. And a lot of us have creative inclinations that won't be denied. Not for long.

So, we blog. Making sure that our news is current, our insights are prescient, and we're always fresh-fresh-fresh.

Because people might not come back to read what we have to say. They might get bored with us and change the channel.

They might just find something better to do with themselves, than read our blogs on a regular basis.

And we don't want that.

At least, most folks don't. As for me -- blasphemer(!) always -- I challenge the notion that people shouldn't have anything better to do, than read blogs. There was a spate of controversy for a while there, 'round about the fall of 2005, when independent research was showing that people were "wasting" x-number of hours each workday, reading blogs.

And I could feel a tremor of control issues run through the veins of the masters of our universe, the employers of our world. From what I heard, employers started blocking blogs with their firewalls, and folks got seriously up-in-arms about the "waste" of work time spent reading frivolous analysis and insight.

Okay, so I have to say in bloggers' defense, that not all blogs are claptrap drivel that's written to distract, as much as it's read to pass the time. Some are the result of a lot of insight and introspection and expertise in a given field. Far be it from me, who keeps a cluster of blogs of my own, to write off the medium as a frivolous waste of supposedly productive time.

But I also have to wonder, if people are that into reading blogs, why aren't they more interested in doing other things? If people would rather read some folks' retrospective on their lost weekend in Reno, what does that say about the other options they have for using their time?

And if most blog reading goes on in the workplace, what does that say about the type and nature of the work people do?

I mean, seriously, given a choice between meaningful work that engages and educates and enlightens me, and some pundit's missive about the current socio-political climate, I'll take the work anyday. But maybe that's just me. It wouldn't be the first time, I parted ways with the mainstream.

Personally, I blame cubicles for all that blog reading. I mean, seriously. Oatmeal-colored, fabric-lined, three-straight-lines-around you cubicles that are closer akin to veal pens, than workspaces. A workspace is a place where you can spread out and let the spirit move you to productive contribution to the world in which you live.

Cubicles are holding places for people who are either too fearful or too challenged when it comes to self-discipline and time-management, to find something more meaningful (and less "safe") to do with their lives. It's an awful, terrible, horrific thing, the modern cubicle. A pox upon our land, and a blight upon our souls. But that's the best that a lot of folks think they can expect from work, these days. And if the paycheck is right, people can put up with about anything... even an oatmeal-colored, fabric-covered box with standard issue desk and phone and computer and file drawer.

You can probably tell, I've been out of cubicle land for a little while. It's true. I'm taking the first two months of 2006 to sit out the rat-race. I've recently decided that hauling my ass into a little box that belongs to someone else and won't afford me the freedom to move about and do as I see fit, all the livelong day, is something I'd just as soon not do, so long as I can. I've got a book to edit, I've got a book to publish. I've got things to think about and a life to consider. Spending my days doing other people's bidding, even if it is for a tasty paycheck, is just not where my head is at, these days.

I need to finish "Fuel".

I've been wondering why I haven't been more actively engaged in its editing and finishing, since I first wrote it. I mean, it was a very eventful time, and it was a time that really changed my life in some very subtle but noticeable ways. Plus, it was in another country, and if there's one thing I love doing, it's thinking about travel in another country.

So, why the delay? Why the hesitation?

I think it's *because* the material contains the seeds of my life's transformation. And I wasn't ready to be transformed, till now. I mean, think about it - how depresssing is it, to look your demons in the eye, know what you have to do, to combat them and banish them forever from your life... all the while knowing that if you do anything that radical, everything you're planning to do with your life, which depends on the status quo, will quickly escape your grasp? I couldn't transform myself, just then. I needed to keep that draining job. I needed to stay locked into the system. I needed to stay at that wretched job long enough to buy my house, pay off my debts, and get myself into good shape to really move forward.

When I wrote "Fuel" the first time, there was no way on earth, I could afford to do what I needed to do -- step away from the interminable, depleting, burn-out grind and find work that fed my soul, not just my pocketbook. No bank would have approved of me saying, "Oh, I don't have quite enough money to pay my mortgage each month! I'm busy fulfilling my heart's desires!" And what mortgage company would have floated me hundreds of thousands of dollars, to purchase my home, had my main financial prospects been work that had the main purpose of enlarging my soul, not raking in the dough?

It's a sick and sinful world we live in, and the first sinful sickness sets in when you mortgage your life for the sake of meeting your financial obligations. But the sickness doesn't have to become chronic. The making ends meet can be a means to an end, not an end in itself. Most people don't realize that, though. They believe the bankers. And they believe those flyers they get with all their other junk mail, that tell them a second mortgage (oh, sorry -- a "home equity loan" -- that sounds much nicer than a "second mortgage") will help them wipe out all their debt in one fell swoop. A pox upon those who mail out all those flyers in the first place, to people who have more sophstication about their child's soccer game, than their financial wherewithall. When they get hold of you and convince you that increased debt to them is a very good thing, then the original sin of abandoning your soul for the sake of a fistful of dollars, sets for good. And you're fast-tracking to Gomorrah.

But that doesn't have to be the final word on the life you lead. It doesn't have to be the final anything. Mortgaging your soul for the sake of material comfort is a fine line to walk, but it can be walked. And it must be walked with a clear sense of what's true in the world, and what's not. You've got to walk that line with the full knowledge that what you're doing with your life is not ultimately what you ALWAYS want to be doing, and it's a means to an end. The minute you start thinking that it's an end in itself-- the daily shuffle into the veal pen... hooking up to the milker in your own corporate stansion -- and you become invested in it as a part of who and what you are... your goose is cooked.

At least, it is, if you're a creative sort like me and so many of my other friends from That Place I Used To Work.

Back in 1997, we all had other things we wanted to be doing with our lives, than sitting at a computer all day, typing in code, and making phone calls to people we needed to connect with and answer to. We were artists, we were writers, we were musicians, we were made scientists. We were a whole lot of things you'd never expect a bunch of corporate types to be. And we plied our trade in wary co-existence with the sorts of people you would expect a bunch of corporate types to be.

All that changed, of course, as we proved we were good at what we did, and we proved that our work had worth in the world. When the "other" bunch of people got wind that what we made and put in place could make money, everything started to change.

I hung in there. Of course I hung in there. It's well nigh impossible to just abandon something you've created that you love like your own child. But we were surrogate mothers, we bunch of web developers. Ultimately, our creation was the sole property of our employer.

And so it goes. How sad and tragic. Soon, the prima donna will be emerging from backstage to sing her final aria and succumb to consumption in a roar of applause.

But I'm not that prima donna. And I'm not in that world, anymore. I'm writing a book about that world, editing and polishing and making sure it reflects my current understanding of How Things Are, which is a bit different from my outlook in 2000.

I've learned a thing or two, since then. And I don't have to hie myself to a cubicle today.

And now for the press release...

Independent Author/Publisher Announces Virtual Book Reading Tour Via Podcast

Independent author and publisher, Kay Stoner, announces the start of her virtual book tour for her forthcoming book, "Fuel: Memoirs of a Crisis". This virtual book tour is a podcast series of readings from her book, which tells the tale of two Americans stranded in Cornwall (Southwestern England) during the fuel protests and crisis of 2000.

Combining readings of sections from "Fuel" with ambient sound effects of audiences talking, laughing, and clapping, Kay creates an environment like she's experienced at live readings. "I originally had thought about doing a real-life book tour for Fuel," she says. "But I've got a lot of personal responsibilities and I don't have the time or money to launch a full-scale book reading tour. I've been podcasting for a number of months, now, and it occurred to me that I could produce a "virtual" book tour that sounds just like recorded book tours I've seen on cable television, or hear on the radio. The only difference, is that the audience sounds are "canned". My potential real-life audience, however, is probably much greater than what I could attract with readings at local bookstores or art galleries or public libraries."

With podcasting, Kay intendes to reach an international audience, who will download her audio and subscribe to her podcast feed, which they can find listed in major podcast directories, as well as at her podcasting site Podtopia.net. She's also writing a creator's guide for other authors who want to launch an international book tour, but lack the funds, the money, or the connections, to tour. For more information about "Fuel", creating virtual book tours, and podcasting, visit www.fuelbook.net. To find out more about using podcasting to reach a wide audience, e-mail info@podtopia.net... or visit www.podtopia.net.

I want to keep this short and sweet, but still convey ample information. There are three initiatives mentioned here -- 1) writing/publishing "Fuel" , 2) podcasting with Podtopia.net, and 3) learning how to produce virtual book tours with podcasting.

I'm hoping all three get noticed by readers. They're all interconnected. And links them -- and more -- are all accessible from all my blogs.

Embracing imperfection

Well, I spent Saturday re-recording the first book tour reading with my noise-cancelling headset microphone (As Robin William's character says in "The Bird Cage", Madonna! Madonna!), but I'm just not happy with the result. I've got a lot of whiny hiss in the final recording, and when I remove the noise, it comes out sounding tinny. The bitrate is higher with the line-in microphone, but I'm getting a lot of extra noise, for some reason. So, I'm going back to the original reading, for the sound quality.

Looks like the internal microphone is the way I'm going to go. In future readings, I'll bump up the animation in my presentation more -- give it more of a performance. But I'm tired of waiting and mucking around with the sound files, and it's a new year, so I'll just get this out there, so folks can see what the first reading sounds like. And they can send me feedback. And I'll focus on improvements in subsequent readings. My ultimate intention is to piece together all the audio from my different readings, into a single audiobook -- also to be downloadable from Lulu.com -- so if I get to the end and I want a better feel for the first two chapters of the book for the final audiobook, I'll just re-record them there.

It's all a learning curve. But the curve gets less steep, as I go on.

Now that I've done my first complete reading, it's time to document the process for "Creating your Virtual Book Reading Tour", the creator's manual I'm going to publish with Lulu.com. Having a virtual book tour is so very cool, and I'm sure other authors are going to want to do it, too. So, I'll create a guide to show folks how to do it. And over the coming weeks and months of doing this process, I'll refine the guide, if need be. But at this point, I've got just about everything I need for the first edition -- except for the screen shots -- so, now I just need to capture those, and I'll be on my merry way.

Now, the documentation I'm doing will be dual -- print AND online. The book is "totally portable media" in one slick package, while the online documentation will be broken up between steps, and will become an online self-guided course, eventually. That way, folks can move at their own pace and have info right in front of them.

The online format actually offers more space to put information -- and bigger graphics, in color. The restrictions of 9x6 inches and only black and white text, can be a problem -- especially for pointing out smaller details of Audacity and the sound files. Online, I can have full-color, full-size graphics which convey information much easier. It's just a different way of conveying information, and both print and online have their strengths.

The main thing is, to convey what you want to convey, and do it as thoroughly as you possibly can.

And convey I shall.

I'm transferring the MP3 to the server right now, and I'm setting up my podcast page.

You can see it at http://www.podtopia.net/fuelbook/. Subscribe to the feed, or download the file today, to hear what's possible.