My friend Guy sent me a link last week and asked if I would be taking part in National Novel Writing Month, a ‘write your ass off with abandon’ program that encourages participants to finish a 50,000 word book in the month of November. Considering my average monthly word count these days is around 75, it seemed preposterous.

Then again, what the hell. I know my habit of writing, revising and staring at the same sentence for days at a time does not equal progress, so why not throw it all at the kitchen sink and see what gets left behind? NoNoWriMo offers no prizes or awards for hitting the target, but I am quite susceptible to bribery and impossible tasks. Here’s a running account of my progress.

November 1st – 1,500 words
Got together with my Saturday writing partner Grace downtown. Writing with Grace is always easy, so I’m curious to see how tomorrow goes when I’m on my own.

November 2nd – 2,000 words
Snuck out of the house after brunch and before the end of the Cowboys/Giants game. Tucked in to a local coffeeshop. In about 90 minutes I scribbled down around 2,000 words. Things are going so well, I am thinking about going back to the computer tomorrow to see how I do there.

November 3rd – 20 words
Left my writing until the end of the day and tried to typey type. Too many distractions. Watched the stock market move around and highlights of yesterday’s games. It’s back to long hand tomorrow.

November 4th – 805 words
Many many barriers to writing. Had a head cold. Work ran long. Spent the evening with Mikey and his gamer wife Darryl playing Resistance 2. I excused myself for an hour to try and get a few pages done. Wrote a couple of nice paragraphs, but had to leave a blank space where one scene transitions into another. Boy is there going to be a lot of clean up on this.

We also watched election returns. Shortly after Obama was declared the winner, I got this email via my friend Pierre:

We no longer suck it.

Love,
America

November 5th – 300 words
Head cold matured and had to run an errand out of town. Then went to an event reception my wife co-chaired and came home early. Wrote a few words before passing out. The word count trauma is less surprising than how busy I seem to be. I could have sworn I never do anything…

November 6th – 1,500 words
Waited until the end of the day to really get into it, but at least added a few pages to the tally. I’ve noticed that if I write when I’m tired, I use the end of a thought or an upcoming break in the action as a goal. When I’m writing without any specific deadline in mind, I tend to move all over the place, which sometimes leads to some new ideas. Nothing earth shattering here mind you. Just sharing.

November 7th – 865 words
Internal dialogue: “You’re not taking this seriously.” “Yes I am.” “No you’re not.” “I plan to write more next week.” “The point of this exercise is to write as much as you can in one month, not catch up in a week.” “I’m going to bed now.”

Week One Total – 7,000 words

November 8th – 2,200 words
Thanks Grace!

November 9th – 1,579 words
I could have written a lot more today. But sometimes you need to get groceries. And scrub the tub. And dust off the night table. And change the sheets, and fix the drawers, and broken windows, oh my.

November 10th – 1,600 words
Started off on an unknown path that ended up somewhere good. I’m pretty sure the framework of this scene will make the final cut, but most of the dialogue will probably have to go. Again, could have written more today, but was preparing for…

November 11th – n/a
Rock and Roll Means Well – Toronto

November 12th – n/a
Rock and Roll Means Well – Pittsburgh

Pls. note: I am posted under paperlion. Any board references to Canadians in this thread generally means me. I verify the accuracy of just about every show review. Especially Nightclub Dwight and the double fingered dance.

November 13th – n/a
Returned triumphant and injury-free from our trip to the Unified Scene. But six hours of driving and 3rd degree dehydration don’t contribute to a creative environment. Thanks for the visit Richard!

November 14th – 942 words
Was in a very foul mood. Started off at a good clip, but was very distracted by other thoughts. I did write about 1,500 words, but many of them were in unrelated exercises so I’m not counting them here.

Week Two Total – 6,321 words

November 15th – 1,779 words
Half writing session / half social get-together as Liam came out to join me and Grace for the first time in three weeks. I came up with and wrote a set piece that felt really strong. It wasn’t part of my outline, but I think it will make the final cut with few revisions.

November 16th – 1,957 words
Finished a scene that was half good / half something else. Would have liked to have written more, but didn’t want to be late for the matinee of Dirty Dancing, the Musical. No one puts Baby in a corner!

November 17th – 2,907 words
What an odd day. Felt lousy, but wrote a lot. Biggest day in terms of volume, but probably the worst in terms of quality. Not much will remain from today’s writing, yet I have managed to solve a plot point that has been bothering me for six months. I guess you’d better love the process, ’cause there ain’t much else.

November 18th – 2,291 words
Today, arrived at a scene that I have been envisioning in my head for years. Didn’t come out as beautifully as I hoped, but with over a decade’s worth of anticipation, there’s no way it could have. But it’s out there now, and it’s real. That has a certain beauty all of its own.

November 19th – 0 words
Client meeting. Snow. Flu bug. Bah. Would have had to end up writing in the evening, but by that point just couldn’t find the strength.

November 20th – 0 words
New client pitch for Mikey’s start-up company. Spent most of the day riding the transit, or at least it felt that way. By the time I got home and took care of work-work, it was evening already and by that point…well, I wasn’t surprised.

November 21st – 1,684 words
Snowy and -17 degrees with the windchill, yet I fought my way through the elements for two hours of afternoon writing. I think that this project, like Scrabble, should allow double word counts for certain conditions. Like braving temperatures below -15 with the wind chill.

Week Three Total – 10,618 words

November 22nd – 0 words
Flu.

November 23rd – 0 words
Flu.

November 24th – 2,422 words
Flu and I made a temporary truce and I got some writing done in the evening. Not the best time to write. My head was so pumped with ideas, I didn’t end up falling asleep until nearly 3:00am. This predictably led to…

November 25th – 0 words
Return of the flu.

November 26th – 2,321 words
Wrote on my own for a bit, then did a session with Liam and Grace. Was so close to finishing a big section that I picked up the pen when I got back home and wrote until about 12:30m. Another bizarre moment. I’ve known for 10 years how I wanted to end this section of the book, but to see it written out is just surreal.

November 27th – 1,495 words
Finished an outstanding scene from Chapter 2, and then got ready to start Chapter Three. Here’s the thing – I don’t have any notes on how the book ends. I mean, I know what happens in my mind, but through all my years of scribbles and printouts, I have no overall outline for the last third of the book. So I started working on this tonight. I’d like to have this done before continuing.

November 28th – done
Continued working on the outline for Chapter 3, but there’s no way I’m going to finish it this weekend. So I’m calling the NoNoWriMo experiment complete, and a huge success.

Over the last four weeks I have written 80 pages, finished the middle third of my book, and have brought the once dormant novel project back to life. This weekend I will finish the outline for Chapter 3, and go back to writing it daily beginning on Monday.

The lessons learned here were pretty simple. I can write consistently without the fear of writer’s block if I:

• work away from home
• write in long-hand
• set aside at least 90 minutes each day

Thanks to Guy for the suggestion, and thanks to Liam & Grace for inching me along.

Final Word Count – 30,117 words

“Great. I love dogs,” I said.

It was a test and I knew it. I can still picture my wife-to-be telling all her friends that any boy must accept her dog as a pre-condition of being considered husband material. That was ok. I was pretty sure I was ready to get married, but I was definitely ready to have a dog.

Around our third or fourth date, Tina invited me to her apartment to make introductions. As the door swung open she made a little bow and said, “And here’s Pookie.”

Expecting to see something in the 30-40 pound range, my eyes were focused about knee high, a few feet inside the apartment. All I noticed was empty space. Clearly missing something, I sent my gaze further around the room. On the second pass I lowered my eyes and saw, somewhat camouflaged on the parquet floor, a small tan lap dog with a pink clip in her hair and a serious under bite. She was looking up expectantly, wagging her tail.

“Hi puppy,” I said, making my way over to her with my hand extended. Pookie, a shi tzu/poodle cross with a face like an Ewok, licked my hand, accepted a pet on her head and sashayed out of the room. I had passed the sniff test all right, but wasn’t quite sure what to make of a dog that was about half the size and twice as girly as I had expected.

Getting to know you

After Tina and I started dating, I noticed more of Pookie’s quirks. She was a sociable girl, prone to picking up huge mouthfuls of kibble and bringing them into the living room, dropping them on the floor so she could eat around people. She had also had a rather odd habit of rubbing her butt / tail area back and forth against the bottom of a coffee table, emitting self-satisfied groans that made the whole process look pretty masturbatory. But everyone got a laugh out of it, and it was practically the only noise she made. Pookie might have been a purse dog, but she wasn’t much of a barker.

Pookie also had the run of the place, with her own antique padded stool to help her make the jump onto the bed. She insisted on following Tina everywhere, and was absolutely furious when she got locked out of the bathroom.

The three of us also spent a lot of time at my place downtown; Tina would often leave her dog with me when she went to work or out on errands. Almost immediately Pookie seemed to regard me as pack leader, and installed herself permanently at my feet while I wrote. This made Tina quite jealous and began what would become a five year rant against dogs who ‘stop loving their mothers’.

Unfortunately, it got worse. Pookie, who had previously been quite dainty, began taking on more ‘boyish’ qualities. She started walking in puddles instead of around them. She would actively run away from Tina to go sit under my desk, protecting herself in a web of USB and power cables every time, even if I was not around. One night in the backyard she surprised us both. A raccoon was making its way down a tv antenna towards us. Pookie became territorial, puffed herself up and started growling and barking like mad. The raccoon backed off. “Good girl,” I told her, rubbing her head.

“Don’t do that so rough; she’s not a boy dog,” Tina cautioned me. Pookie, who celebrated her victory by flopping around on the ground, rubbing her back against the grass, didn’t seem to mind.

Dealing with diabetes

In early 2004 the three of us moved into a two bedroom flat in Roncesvalles Village. The bedrooms were upstairs, and the smaller one, which had just enough room for my desk and a small couch, became my office. I took the desk and Pookie generally took the couch, checking in on me throughout the day and sharing space when it was time for a nap.

After a few weeks together, we noticed Pookie was drinking enormous quantities of water, panting and urinating a lot. We chalked it up to winter weather and the apartment being very dry, but when we described the symptoms to our vet, she had a different take.

“Diabetes,” she said confidently. “And you should get her checked right away.”

Diabetes? In dogs? This was a new one for us, but the results were definitive: Pookie was diabetic, and her blood glucose levels were right off the charts. A few days later Pookie spent the night at the vet’s office so they could create a blood glucose curve. This process measured her blood sugar levels throughout the day, so that we could arrive at a suitable amount of insulin to give her at home.

After 10 years of eating when she damn well felt like it, we were forced to find food that she would eat on command, as insulin injections require food in the system to prevent diabetic shock. We went through a number of options, including cooked ground beef and vegetables, egg-based dishes and pastas. The new foods were all exciting for a while, but eventually Pookie tired of them. We finally arrived at a compromise that worked for everyone: hot dogs. The smell of encased, moist chicken or turkey brats was enough to send her into a frenzy that guaranteed appetite whenever it was required.

Getting Pookie regulated on this schedule, and getting used to the idea of giving our dog daily injections, took a few months. We stayed positive about the whole thing, as people told us that diabetic dogs can continue to have happy, normal lives. I can vouch this is true; once the three of us got used to the routine, we got the timing of her feedings and medicine down to a couple of minutes, twice a day. Asides from that, she acted, played and rested like a normal dog.

There are great support resources online for diabetic pet owners. Here is one that gives a pretty good overview of what to expect after facing a diagnosis of diabetes, and how to deal with it.

Our routine

Over the course of the next four years, although she had occasional trips to the vet for check-ups and other issues, Pookie remained regulated on insulin with no major setbacks. The high blood glucose levels did lead Pookie to develop cataracts, a condition that is almost unavoidable in diabetic dogs. As she began to lose her sight, it was a lot harder on the people around her than it was on Pookie. Dogs don’t dwell in self-pity, and they live in the moment. Their attitude is a lot more like, “I can’t see; what’s for dinner!” than anything else.

Pookie continued to lie by my desk as I worked. She still went ballistic for hot dogs and found her way around the house, jumping on the couch and on to our bed with her antique step stool as if nothing had happened.

I continued to work from home, and would often send text messages and updates on our day to Tina. Sometimes these were standard complaints of Tina putting dog food cans back in the fridge with next to no food.

Sometimes we would celebrate the discovery of chips in the house.

Other times I would let Tina know when Pookie was ‘divebombing’ on the bed: pushing her head into the sheets and flopping around when she was in a good mood.

Faster and stronger

As she rounded the corner on 15, Pookie’s energy levels took a sharp spike up. We had managed to secure some dog food created specifically for diabetics that Pookie tolerated, allowing us to drop her dependence on hot dogs. Then she started running. Let loose to barrel down the middle of the street, Pookie would gallop ahead with reckless abandon. You had to watch her to prevent a full-on collision with the curb or a parked car, but a brisk run became part of our morning routine.

I thought this quite remarkable and put together a small video from our morning walks.

Saying goodbye

We had slowly grown accustomed to some of Pookie’s ‘old / grumpy dog’ behaviour. She was barking a lot more these days, was less interested in other dogs and had an absolute aversion to any type of car travel. And she loved her mother even less. But by early 2008, excessive drinking and urination, often inside the house, were back. Spring brought some more disturbing symptoms, including spells where she seemed to lose her balance or ability to walk around.

Eventually we discovered that the answer, in addition to general symptoms associated with senior dogs, was Cushings Disease. We began reading up on Cushings – this forum was particularly amazing in terms of its information and support – but never had a chance to explore treatment options. Pookie’s condition was causing her to reject food, even with the help of anti-nausea, antacids and stomach coating medication. After three nights in the hospital and four nights at home under our care, there were no real improvements to speak of and we knew it was time to say goodbye.

We had no interest in putting her through another traumatic car ride or visit to the vet, so we enlisted the services of Dr. Brodetsky, a mobile veterinarian who came to our home. I highly recommend this approach for anyone who has to say goodbye to a pet. For the most part, Dr. Brodetsky was calm, sympathetic and professional. Unfortunately, he somehow managed to leave without taking Pookie with him. I called him on his cel phone and heard, in a thick Russian accent, “Yes, yes, I forgot dog. I come back.” And he did. But not before we got to spend a few more minutes with Pookie, her battles with age, diabetes and Cushings no longer a concern.

————-

As with any dog that enjoyed a 15 year run, people in our universe have different recollections of Pookie. Many of Tina’s friends and family remember her as a puppy, a three pound ball of fluff that silently went everywhere with her Mom inside a handbag or purse. Some of our more recent friends know her better as the yappy dog who demanded pizza crusts, or would bark at the wall and interrupt our Buffy marathons for what seemed like hours on end. But everyone has been wonderful. The sheer volume of phone calls, cards, and emails have made dealing with the absence a little more bearable.

We still wait for the ‘thunk’ of Pookie running into the dishwasher on her way to scarffling down hot dogs. Tina even misses Pookie’s evening routine of lying in bed beside her just long enough to let out some gas, distracting her mother just long enough to wriggle free and crawl over to my side of the bed, where she generally stayed until morning. With all the challenges that her care required, she was very much a part of our family and is deeply missed.

I found a number of great resources from a content creation perspective, but very little in terms of how to schedule production. This was particularly challenging since as a group, we weren’t aware of all the steps involved until the first issue was put to bed.

One of my current clients is interested in creating their own magazine which led to a discussion about scheduling. I remember how infuriating it was on this previous project to think we were sailing, only to find out that we had left out a crucial step that set us back days or weeks.

If you are facing or contemplating a similar project, here are some tools to help you develop an accurate schedule for private label magazine production. A description of the files is followed by a .pdf download.

1. Initial design / layout schedule

Before you have something tangible to show (the first issue), the client has to make sure that internal decision makers, partners and possibly a distribution partner are on board and understand their responsibilities. You might be able to picture the final product, but not everyone has your skills and pizazz. A visual representation of the magazine will be required, and this five week schedule will walk you through the steps to create the magazine’s logo, look and feel, and department templates.

2. Production / workback schedule

Get ready for more sign-offs, legal concerns and partner reviews than you can shake a stick at. If you’ve spent most of your time working on brochures and ads, it will surprise you too.

The included workback schedule follows a four month production window and incorporates various due dates for ads, legal reviews, editorial content and design proofs. As in the sample, be sure to indicate any observed holidays or big industry events. It sounds ridiculous, but it helps protect the project by allowing you to schedule sign-offs and reviews for weeks where the entire team of Directors is not on a hush-hush junket in Istanbul. Trust me.

3. Pagination

The pagination sheets determine which articles, ads and departments go where. It is an essential resource for the design team, and also helps you control the flow of content for readers. Don’t take anything for granted with these sheets; replace the generic ‘ad’ categories and department titles with actual names as soon as you can. It will reduce the chance of overlap between pages and keep the process transparent, which becomes more important as production gets closer to print.

4. Final Thoughts

These schedules were created with an enterprise-level client in mind. If you plan to work on a smaller scale or don’t plan to include partner ads, many of these steps can be streamlined or deleted. The real issue for the writer/editor is to adapt your thinking away from getting a sign-off and moving on to understanding how many parties are involved with the piece you are going to create. Once you can get your head around that and find a schedule that all parties are willing to abide by, you are going to help make production a less painful experience for all involved. Especially you.

Download

magazine_production_files.pdf

The Hold Steady is a group of nice young men who play rock music. Their new record, Stay Positive, comes out July 15th. The first single, Sequestered in Memphis, can be heard on the boys’ My Space page.

It’s strange to find a new ‘favorite band’ when you’re in your mid-30s, as I did with The Hold Steady. It’s hard to explain to my wife why I want to put their poster over our bed. But I would do it if she’d let me.

The band’s first three albums tell lyrically dense, guitar-driven tales of parties, clever kids, dope fiends, hangers-on and recovery, in and around Minneapolis. They have the gall to smile and laugh during their phenomenal live sets, often finishing concerts by telling the audience how much joy there is in what they do.

It’s easy enough to look up info on the band and sample cuts from their first few albums. I’ve collected a handful of additional links that I felt were helpful in explaining their appeal or the stories behind their work.

I hope to follow them around a bit on their summer tour. Hope to see you there. Stay positive.

Links

212 Margarita Live

An in-store performance for one of their best songs. The video quality is terrible, but adds to the ‘you are there’ vibe. Why can’t the guy in the cap just move???

NPR: The Hold Steady in Concert

From “All Songs Considered,” a full concert of The Hold Steady w/ Art Brut from November 2007, supporting Boys and Girls in America.

Dreaming of a Unified Scene

A little wordy. A little nerdy. A lot of lovely descriptions of how the band’s openness separates them from other so-called indie darlings.

The A-to-Z Hold Steady Glossary

Not sure what Ybor City is, or why the same names keep getting referenced on the band’s first three albums? This Washington Post guide will help set you straight.

The Hold Steady Guide to the Twin Cities

A great little interactive map that collects many of the names and locations cited in the band’s work, along with the originating lyric.

And that’s about as far as I can go with the tough guy trip report. Because if you are not familiar with the AWA method or haven’t been exposed to writing in groups, a lot of what I want to tell you might sound simplistic, obvious, or even a little la-di-da. That’s not what I want you to remember. So instead, I offer an overview of what drove me to this training session and how the AWA approach benefits my craft. I hope the writer in you will recognize a little of yourself somewhere in this journey.

What Happened First

There’s a novel kicking around in my head. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time, and after many false starts and stops, I began work on it last October. I expected to wrap up the first draft by the end of the year, based on Stephen King’s advice from his book, On Writing:

I believe the first draft for a book – even a long one – should take no more than three months, the length of a season.

Yet after the 90 days had past, I had eight pages to show for my efforts. Eight. Screw you, Mr. King.

Looking for Clues

I encountered many barriers. I was distracted. My notes were insufficient. Real work got in the way. I also had certain expectations that the words would start sounding Novelistic once I got going, but this didn’t happen.

I found what I was looking for by accident. One of my daily reads is “Since You Asked,” an advice column at Salon.com by Cary Tennis. In January someone wrote in with a question about writing and part of Cary’s answer got my attention:

So I recommend that you find a writing workshop and attend it regularly for at least one year. Ideally, it would be a group that follows the Amherst Writers and Artists method, but just make sure there is a method. If there is no suitable workshop in your area, then buy the book “Writing Alone and With Others,” follow the detailed instructions in it and create your own workshop. That is what I did.

I had never heard of the Amherst Writers and Artists method. I checked it out. It sounded pretty good. So I looked up certified instructors in Toronto and didn’t find any. Impulsively, I signed up for an intensive training session to get certified myself.

The Crossings, Austin TX

The picture above is my ‘dorm-style’ room at The Bunkhouse, my home for five April days at The Crossings in Austin, TX. The Crossings is a fanspabulous wellness resort and retreat center, a self-contained little world of good eats, nature trails and a vast assortment of wildlife including massive red wasps, snakes, day-glo butterflies and the muddy paw print of what could have been a mountain cat. The creatures brought back memories for one of our groups members, who had grown up in Austin. “I forgot how many things can bite you in Texas,” she told us.

AWA Training

Our group was led by two trainers, who both happen to be terrific writers and teachers. Patricia Lee Lewis and Celia Jeffries set the tone for our course, and guided us through the ins and outs of the AWA method. We spent a good deal of time completing writing exercises that each began with some sort of prompt. Sometimes it was a lyric; other times it was an object. The prompts could also be sounds, smells or one of our own choosing if we didn’t like what was presented. We also discussed the history and philosophy of the AWA method, as well as the nuts and bolts of running our own workshops.

A good deal of our work actually started prior to arriving in Texas, as we were each sent a copy of AWA founder Pat Schneider’s Writing Alone and with Others (Oxford University Press, 2003) to read.

For a long time, I believed that certain frustrations about writing were mine alone. Pat’s book and the AWA training session were revelations to me. I felt like I had finally found a group that spoke the same language I did, and that I could communicate using my full vocabulary.

Here are three of the main thoughts I brought into the training session that held me back as a writer, and how the AWA method enables me to see them in a new light.

Writing is difficult.

When I sit down to eat or get behind the wheel of my car, I know exactly what to do. Yet when I sit down to write, I hear all sorts of voices that tell me my writing is not good enough, or I am not sure what I want to say, or that whichever project I have in mind will be so hard to finish, it is barely worth trying.

The AWA method has led me to identify these voices are the work of my inner critics. Although telling stories comes naturally to us all, we have learned – often through people who felt they were helping – that sharing our work can lead to unwelcome reactions. These responses might include criticism, inconsistent suggestions on ‘how to make it better’ or perhaps, if people don’t ‘get’ what we are writing about, a confirmation of our deep-seated fear that we just can’t write worth a damn.

Designed to help writers get around these fears by writing and sharing in groups, the AWA method is based on the understanding that no criticism, questions or feedback will be offered on first-draft work. After all, if you have just written something, sharing it with the group will be the first time you have even read it yourself! This is where the concept of writing in groups becomes so valuable. Knowing that sharing your work will not result in unwelcome reactions is a powerful step towards building confidence to explore and challenge the limits of our voices as writers.

Great writers are born, not made.

I spent many beer-soaked nights arguing this point at University. In fact, I recall coming up with a hierarchy (Authors at the top, Writers in the middle, Typists at the bottom) to explain the level of talent different storytellers brought to the table. In my early 20s this seemed perfectly reasonable, as I had no doubt that with a carton of cigarettes, a quart of bourbon and a week’s worth of peace, I could create an Author-worthy book myself.

I smoked a lot of cigarettes and drank a lot of single malts, yet I have very few – as in, not one – novels to show for these thoughts. The AWA method positions writing as a journeyman’s craft, one that requires dedication and hard work to chip away at the rough ideas we have in order to take them to completion. By reducing the pressure on myself to create great works from the first draft, I am free to explore my craft and learn from my peers. This may sound straightforward. But if you have sat in a room for years trying to uncover greatness while pecking away at your keyboard as an all-in-one writer, editor, audience and critic, you may have an equal number of bad habits to try and correct.

I need to sound like a serious writer to be taken seriously.

I have a list of favorite writers and novels. When I think about the stories that I want to tell, I inevitably try to figure out if they are ‘as good’ as these works, and whether they will one day share a space together on someone’s shelf. I have been known to take certain phrases, characters or plot structure and steal them use them as inspiration for my stories.

Pat’s book and the AWA training session highlighted the futility of this approach. Think about your own favorite books or movies. Chances are one of the things you liked best about them was the originality of their plot, characters or set-up. One thing each of us as writers have going for us is our own voice; a unique perspective on how the world works based on our memories, our experience and our imagination. Work that aims to develop this voice will improve our craft and make our work stronger. Holding it up to the standards of someone else’s efforts will end up in something less memorable.

Three more thoughts

Another reason I value the AWA approach is that the workshop leader is an equal who writes and reads along with the group. Think about this relative to other methods. If you are in a class that is being graded, you run the very strong risk of writing to please the teacher. If you are taking a course by a writer you admire you may learn an awful lot about their approach to craft, but since we are all different in how we tell stories, this might not be a method that works for you. And you might not even be aware of it, since this process may feel difficult and you know no other way. The AWA method’s only goal is to give you a framework to develop your own voice as a writer. And since this is a goal for all writers, it is likewise an approach that can benefit us all.

In many ways, the affirmations and practices of the AWA method remind me of military language. For an outsider, the constant “Sir! Yes Sir!” business may seem hokey and artificial. For the people who have been trained to use it though, it becomes a reliable way to communicate with others from dramatically different backgrounds without getting into fist fights every five seconds. Since the AWA method restricts criticisms and respects the unique voice and talent of all participants, it has proven to be a highly successful approach with a variety of silenced groups including incarcerated men and women, veterans, abuse victims, as well as those with low-incomes or illness.

When the training session started, I immediately asked how much flexibility we had as workshop leaders to modify the affirmations and practices behind the AWA method. By the end of the session, my request was off the books. Over the last 25 years, the AWA has picked up enough proof points to show that it works with all writers, regardless of economic, social or educational status. I am a believer.

About my group

As the post title suggests, I was the only male in the bunch. Well, for most of the training session. We were also joined for two days by Charles MacInerney, a wonderful presence and teacher in his own right. But in the time before and after Charles was with us, it was me and the gals. I had initially intended to break this report down by somehow introducing each of the women than took the training with me. Over writing exercises, gossiping, lunch, beer and one memorable run through The Crossings’ nature trails, I bore witness to some remarkable moments of strength, generosity, and hilariously filthy language.

After giving the matter some more thought, I have chosen to keep the identities of my group members private. One of the essential practices of the AWA method is that confidentiality about what is written in the group is maintained, and the privacy of the writer is protected. In the spirit of this practice let me say this to my group members: if any of you happen to stumble by these pages, thank you for accepting me as a writer and an equal in your circle. The honor was mine.

The Way Back Home

A voice wakes me from sleep.

“Ladies and gentleman we are at cruising altitude and it is now safe to use your electronic devices and computers.”

By this point, after five days and 19 writing exercises, my mind responds immediately to prompts and I am already imagining all the different reasons why I would be on an airplane. In fact I am so well trained that I have already pulled out the ol’ notebook before I realize this isn’t an exercise at all but an actual announcement from Delta representative Maggie.

No matter. Before I was even conscious of the effort involved, I was 61 words in, off and running.

For those of us who live in fear of the blank page and the empty box of ideas, this is pretty powerful stuff.

We both kind of let that float in the air for a few minutes. Then I went back to shoveling Ms. Vickie’s chips into my mouth with reckless abandon. The game was on and it demanded my attention. But it was pretty clear that this was a season unlike one she had ever witnessed before.

No drafts.
No bets.
No fantasy football.
No weekly picks.
Hey now.

What I Did

For nine years I wrote about the NFL at my site WideRight.com, ‘a lone fan’s attempt to explain an entire NFL season.’ I predicted the outcome of more than 2,000 games and compiled a better record against the spread than most sports columnists. My straight up record was pretty stellar.

Some of the boys at NASA became quite partial to the picks, and posted them in their lunchroom from time to time. I got some very energetic hate mail when the picks were bad, and a rare smattering of applause when things went well. We made terrific fun of football dot com (sorry, still can’t bear to send them any traffic). For a while I stayed in touch with PR reps from various teams, and got invited as an official visitor to Bears camp in 2002.

Some friends helped out from time to time. We ran a couple of contests and gave away a boatload of NFL DVDs. I got to interview some great writers. After a few years the place got even busier, with friends including Markzilla, The Goodwin Files and Tim Parry throwing in guest articles and columns. I hold very fond memories of my friend Pierre, aka The NYC Bruiser, and his ‘Con Ball’ series that tracked the criminal activity of NFL Players. We used the Alaskan penal code as a benchmark of performance. Due to the enormous amount of criminal activity on display, it took forever to format those posts. My fingers still tense up just thinking about it.

After a while, predicting the games became a chore and I decided to change it up. By 2006 video was becoming prevalent on the web – I was particularly inspired by ZeFrank and The Show – and decided to create short video clips for WideRight’s 9th season. I bought a video camera, dry-cleaned my white shirt and spent a few days learning how to use iMovie to edit clips together.

After a few years of writing out the picks, I had it down to about a 90-minute exercise; the video & editing work blew that schedule right off the field. Completing the clips took anywhere from three hours to a whole day. Most of my regular visitors hated them. I knew that was a likely outcome, but before the season I had committed to seeing it through. By the time the Super Bowl wrapped up, even if I wasn’t aware of it consciously, I knew I was done. I wasn’t going to devote that much time to making picks the following year, and going back to plain text would have felt like a defeat. In my own small way, I went out on top.

After this sunk in, I decided to make a clean break. No football-related activities other than watching the games. And that’s how the 2007 season began.

What I learned

As the season drew near, the earliest event I missed out on was the fantasy drafts. It was the first time in over a decade I hadn’t huddled up in front of the computer with my massive collection of printouts, sweating out the late rounds so I could make my annually futile pick of Jeff George, just in case some team decided to let him air it out one more time.

I missed the drafts. It’s my favorite part of fantasy football. But since I had no intention of following through with weekly rosters, it wouldn’t have been fair to take part.

The regular season rolled around and I confess to a little post-partum depression when I confirmed that, in fact, an NFL season could go on without my prognostication. As the weeks ticked by and New England made their run at perfection, I started to realize what a tremendous pressure lifted from my shoulders when I was simply a viewer.

The amount of anxiety that goes into watching an NFL game when you root for individual players to score in specific manners, never mind having a three-team reverse parlay teaser riding on the final result, is enormous. Taking a step away from these activities allowed me to focus on the game…and I’m pretty sure I observed more, learned more and enjoyed them more without all the other thoughts clouding my head.

I know this is the manly equivalent of going to Vegas for the spas, or giving up on beer because of the carbs. But it was true, for me anyway.

I did make one exception. My wife’s cousin comes in from Boston once a year to watch to the Patriots pummel the Bills. Since this was part of New England’s historic run I decided not only to go to the game, but also to put down small wagers on every exotic bet I could think of. I bet that the Bills would choke under pressure and call the game’s first timeout and challenge, among others. Of course I forgot how hyper-competitive Bill Belichick is and lost both bets en route to the Patriots’ 56-10 pasting of Buffalo.

The experience itself was wonderful though. I tailgated with a bunch of loudmouthed chowder heads for 12 hours in a frigid Buffalo parking lot – and starting talking like them after my third beverage. I can only describe my New England accent as a cross between Mayor Quimby from The Simpsons and a half keg of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

I enjoyed the season very much. The return of the Browns as a legitimate NFL team; 16-0; Green Bay’s first playoff game; the Giants’ meteoric postseason. And much like eating chili out of a bread bowl, when it was over, it was over. Nothing left to clean up.

What’s next?

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. This is a shiny new website, only one post old, and I’m visualizing how lovely the place will look with lines like “Pittsburgh Steelers (1-0) @ Cincinnati Bengals (0-1): Bengals -6.0” dancing all over the screen.

But what used to be driven by passion is now tempered by experience. I read, and was greatly moved, by Fooled By Randomness, Nassim Nicholas Taleb’s book on chance and its hidden role in life. It would take me hours to (badly) summarize his arguments. I’ll crib from (and agree with) Amazon’s summary, which states in part that the book, “examines what randomness means in business and in life and why human beings are so prone to mistake dumb luck for consummate skill.”

I look back at the picks I made (against the spread specifically) in light of Taleb’s book, and see nothing more than a guy who got lucky more often than not. I have no special skill at divining the outcome of football games. Anyone who claims such skill is a liar, a thief, or a columnist at football dot com.

I know that every time I correctly guessed which team would beat the spread, I felt my insights were ‘vindicated’. When I guessed the incorrect result, I maintained that my logic had still been ‘theoretically correct’ and should that game be replayed a number of times, I would be right more often than not. I am not alone in feeling this way. There’s simply no other way to explain how intelligent people can end up one or two picks over a .500 season and consider themselves geniuses. Listen fellas; it’s darts. You throw ‘em at a board and hope you end up with more in your column than the other guy. That’s it. That’s all.

I can still see posting some game picks. It’s great fun and is always a great conversation starter among degenerates. But after my thousands of little posts, a respectable library of NFL books and a solid decade of studying the philosophy, poetry and violence of NFL, I think Bill Parcells still summed it up best.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just a bunch of guys with an odd-shaped ball.”