Category Archives: Profile

Support Your Local Bookseller

bloggessI am a little—no, a lot—ashamed to say that after having lived in the Bay Area for almost eight years, tonight was my first visit to Book Passage, the premier independent bookstore in Corte Madera. I have been meaning to go, in much the same way that James Garner was forever “basically on [his] way to Australia” in Support Your Local Sheriff.  And there was the time in 2007 when I crashed the Poetry for Water fundraiser at The Lark Theater after seeing it on the calendar of my SoMa Literary Review email a few hours before it started, not knowing that it was an event for people who had gotten tickets from Book Passage, because I thought it would be really cool to hear Peter Coyote read poetry in person. (It was really cool, and so was listening to Anne Lamott read one of her humorous essays and watching Nina Wise perform an interpretive dance, and I know this because the kind Book Passage staff member found a person in line with two extra tickets and gave them to us.)

So, what drew me into Book Passage tonight for a virtual stamp in my imaginary literary passport? None other than Jenny Lawson, also known as The Bloggess. If you are not one of the gazillion people who became a fan when her post about buying a big metal chicken named Beyonce went viral, you need a little more whimsy in your life. I had felt a bit smug as the link to And That’s Why You Should Learn to Pick Your Battles… rocketed its way across Facebook and beyond; after all, I had bookmarked The Bloggess in my Favorites, in 2009, after designer Jamie Varon told me she had designed the web site. And I lurked and loved her posts for a good two weeks before I stopped reading blogs altogether, because they reminded me that other people had developed good writing habits, which reminded me that I had not.

Jenny Lawson, who is on tour promoting her book, Let’s Pretend This Never Happened (A Mostly True Memoir), is positively delightful! That she inspired me to sit down two hours later and write, when I have built a wall of writer’s blocks that would put Pink Floyd to shame, is truly saying something. Flanked by Copernicus-the-Homicidal-Monkey and Juanita Weasel, Lawson started by recounting how she might have inadvertently insulted Lisa Loeb this morning when she walked into “hair and makeup” before a live television interview, saw her with large curlers in her hair and—not realizing it was Loeb—exclaimed, “Bitch stole my look!”

Lawson is self-deprecating to a fault, proclaiming that she is proud to be a “misfit,” and she is grateful to her many fans who may or may not be misfits in their own way. She is at the same time candid, outrageous, and humble, tearing up with almost every “thank you” directed at the audience, and in response to the boy who did not ask a question, but said, “My abs hurt from your sparkling personality.”

Jenny Lawson wakes up famous every day, whether or not she is able to get herself out of bed—or the bathroom. She is an inspiration to writers and other misfits, and anyone else who would take “You can’t say vagina on CNN” as an invitation to find a colorful euphemism.

As an aside, in February, after a comedy show at the Impala Lounge in San Francisco, comedian Rachel McDowell told me that I was her “happy place,” because I was clearly enjoying her show and I exuded “positive energy.”  So, Jenny, if you are reading this, I was the woman with sunglasses on her head in the seat that was perfectly aligned with the center aisle of the front group of chairs, about 35 feet from the lectern, sitting behind and just to the left—your right—of the guy wearing the black watch cap despite its being 85 degrees today. I hope I was able to be your happy place.

But not in a weird way.

Fame is about Sharing your Dreams

Inside jacket sleeve of "I Am Alive" CD by Tamara George.
Inside jacket sleeve of “I Am Alive” CD by Tamara George.

I wrote a few songs in the mid 90s, initially planning to self-produce a CD. That intention transformed into submitting songs to publishers, instead. When life twisted and turned, as it does, and I stopped songwriting, I vowed to return to it someday.

Intentions are funny things; we must be open to seeing them manifest in ways other than we imagined they would appear.

I met Tamara George, in 2004, at a spiritual center choir practice. She asked me if I knew any teachers, because she was working on a liberal studies degree and needed to interview a seventh-grade science teacher. I told her that I taught seventh-grade math and science.

When we met for the interview two weeks later, Tamara told me that she had changed the emphasis of her degree from teaching to Spiritual Consciousness, and that she would begin a master’s program in Consciousness Studies as soon as she finished her bachelor’s degree; she had decided to become a minister.

The interview—she still needed it to complete a course—turned into an evening of talking about music and songwriting. I had written and demoed a few songs the previous decade, and she had written a few within the past couple years and was still writing. That night, we knew that we had become friends the moment we met.

Over the next eight years, Tamara earned her master’s degree, became a minister and founded an omni-faith spiritual center with a dynamic youth group, and continued writing and performing her music all the while; we often sang together. When she was offered the opportunity to work on a spirit-based project with the potential to reach a global audience, she closed the spiritual center, receiving nothing but well wishes and encouragement from the members.

In the midst of all her transitions, Tamara completed her first CD, I am Alive, with the help of her friends. I had the privilege of singing backing vocals and assisting with the album artwork. They aren’t my songs, and it isn’t my CD, but to date, it is the closest I have come to fulfilling one of my own dreams. General Electric and I: we [help] bring good things to life.

In the studio where I recorded my demos, there was a sticker on the wall that said, “We become successful by helping other people to become successful.” I wholeheartedly agree, and would paraphrase that to say, “We become famous by helping other people become famous.”

We live in a reciprocal universe; what we give freely returns to us in ways we cannot even imagine.

What have you done to help someone achieve his or her dreams?

Who could use your help today?

If You Must Complain, Blame Drew’s Cancer

bdc_teesOn May 20, 2009, Drew Olanoff was diagnosed with stage 3 Hodgkins lymphoma. 28 years old and embarking on a new job with the mobile startup GOGII, Olanoff thought that his dreams were ending—at least, that’s what he thought for a minute or two. And then he did something first-rate: he decided to let cancer be the victim.

Enlisting the help of software developer Mike Demers, a friend who beat Hodgkins, Olanoff created BlameDrewsCancer, a web site that encourages people to blame anything and everything on his cancer. Fender bender? BlameDrewsCancer. Mullets? BlameDrewsCancer. Poodles? BlameDrewsCancer.

But why blame Drew’s cancer? As Olanoff says in his blog:

“I am trying to stay lighthearted and optimistic that since studies show that Hodgkins Lymphoma is 90% curable…I should do SOMETHING.”

And he has. By making the choice to shout at cancer instead of whisper about it, Olanoff has raised both awareness and funds. As of this writing, he had raised $3,000 for the American Cancer Society, $500 for Make-A-Wish, and $962 for LIVESTRONG, the foundation established by cancer survivor Lance Armstrong, in 1997.

In a guest post on the LIVESTRONG blog, Olanoff says that LIVESTRONG’s support made him feel “alive and protected, and surrounded by heart.” And, thanks to BlameDrewsCancer, Armstrong had something to blame for the broken collarbone he suffered several weeks before the 2009 Tour de France.

bdc_lance

The fame that comes from within reminds us that we have control over our perspective. We choose whether to focus on a 90% success rate or the other 10 percent.

Comedian Steven Wright jokes that he knows when he’s going to die because his birth certificate has an expiration date. The funniest thing about the joke—or the saddest—is that even if someone knew precisely when he was going to die, he’d be just as likely to put off doing the things that truly feed his spirit until he had “just enough” time left to do them.

Doctors sometimes hand out time-stamped diagnoses like they were library book due dates. If you’re not finished with the story by the posted date, you might be able to renew it, but if somebody else is waiting for it, you have to give it up. Those raised to follow doctors’ orders and institutional rules without question will accept this and let the story end right there.

The library imposes fines, but it does not send a militia to retrieve overdue materials. People who wake up famous keep their stories until they are finished, and they read them aloud for the benefit of others who are waiting.

What stories do you need to finish, start over, or rewrite altogether? More importantly, what’s keeping you from doing it? Name it, BlameDrewsCancer for it, and get on with living famously.

The opening image is from Thropic T-Shirts, a company that clearly gets real fame. For each BlameDrewsCancer t-shirt purchased, $8 goes directly to the LIVESTRONG/Lance Armstrong Foundation. You can also support LIVESTRONG by making a donation via Blame Drew’s Cancer Sponsorship Page.

How Singer/Songwriter Jen Foster Wakes Up Famous

jenfosterJen Foster, who would have “given [her] left arm for a major record deal” at 21, became an independent artist/songwriter/publisher because she was “too stubborn to quit.” She chooses to wake up famous every day by doing whatever it takes to stay true to herself. As she says in her Musings:

“I just learned as I went along, making mistakes, getting out on the road, and just trying whatever I could think of to get my music heard.  All I had at times was that inner voice telling me that I had a purpose in life and it was to make music.”

Foster’s willingness to stay the course has earned her a number of songwriting awards, the #3 position on LOGO’s Top Videos of 2008, and the opportunity to write and perform with other industry professionals she admires.

When she performed at the Dolores Park Cafe, in San Francisco, on July 3, Foster demonstrated at least five ways she chooses to wake up famous.

Say what is yours to say.
When Foster introduced her song Closer to Nowhere by proudly stating, “I am celebrating six years of sobriety,” she acknowledged the positive change in her own life without casting judgment on others. Similarly, when she introduced I Didn’t Just Kiss Her, her response to Katy Perry‘s I Kissed a Girl, she spoke no ill words about Perry, who has been criticized by others for portraying lesbianism as a trendy party trick.

Make a difference.
In Talk to God, the song Foster wrote about coming out to her parents, she sings, “I am different but my heart works just the same.” She said she hopes her words will help others through the process, something she will soon discuss with the HRC (Human Rights Campaign), whose Coming Out Project encourages lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and other individuals to live openly.

Share the spotlight.
Foster appeared at the Delores Park Cafe as a guest of Valerie Orth and Her Trio. Clearly, Orth is one who also chooses to wake up famous: she didn’t have Foster open for her group, the women alternated sets.

Be present, and don’t take yourself too seriously.
When sound problems arose one chorus into Foster’s first song, she asked the crowd if she could start over, unplugged, joking that she’d stand on the center table. Although she gave her dynamic performance from floor level, she moved through the crowd, playfully working the room, while the other musicians tended to the electronics. When she finished the song, she helped them complete another sound check, and then plugged in for the rest of her performance.

Say thank you, often.
Foster thanked the crowd “for coming out to support independent music,” acknowledging that she is a part of something bigger. She thanked Valerie Orth for the invitation, and publicly recognized and thanked her partner, Leslie, for being a part of her life.

Jen Foster is living proof that real fame comes from within.

Photo by Sporter Photography.