Category: writing

blog, business, celebration, economy, hope, inspiration, writing, yoga

Beginning: My Features on Sour to Sweet, a Blog Focused on People Defying the Great Recession

Christa Avampato

Lauren Murray is striking back against the idea that our economy has ruined all of us.

Her blog, Sour to Sweet, is “my attempt to counterbalance the doom and gloom that’s already out there. Let’s celebrate the successes that, seemingly against all odds, have occurred despite the economic downturn.” Lauren reached out to me a few weeks ago after reading my book Hope in Progress: 27 Entrepreneurs Who Inspired Me During the Great Recession. She asked if I would be willing to share my own story through an interview (Not the Same Old Yoga) and if I’d write a guest post on the topic of inspiration (How to Survive the Uh-Oh Moment). I was both honored and thrilled by the offer.

I hope you’ll stop by Sour to Sweet and support Lauren in helping her to get the word out that it’s not all darkness out there!

comedy, writing

Beginning: Bill Cosby, David Sedaris, and the Art of the Delivery

Christa Avampato
Bill Cosby performing his famous sketch "Right"

It takes a long time to fly from Orlando to Phoenix. So long that on a recent business trip I had the time to read an entire book from beginning to end in one sitting. After seeing Bill Cosby on David Letterman, I ran out to get the book in prep for my cross-country trek. I love Bill Cosby so much that as a kid I named my dog after him. Compared to his famous Chocolate Cake and Noah’s Ark sketches, his new book, I Didn’t Ask to Be Born (but I’m Glad I Was),is a let down. And not because the stories aren’t good – they’re actually very good! – but because there are no words that can live up to his brilliant delivery that made his career. The same could be said of Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert. I like their writing, but I love their performances.  

Some comedic authors can deliver on the page – the comedic siblings David Sedaris and Amy Sedaris immediately come to mind (maybe it’s all in the genes!) Tina Fey, Anne Lamott, and Bill Bryson have regularly made me laugh out loud with their honesty, wit, and turn of phrase. It’s hard enough to get the timing down in performance; getting it done on the page is even more challenging given that the reader controls the timing and cadence of the words. Nailing the delivery is almost impossible if you’re not the one delivering your own story in-person. And even for these titans of comedic writing, hearing them say their own stories out loud upped the degree of their humor. David Sedaris’s books make me laugh out loud, but seeing him on stage and then meeting him in person made me double over and laugh so hard I cried.  

As a writer and serious hater of performance, I find this highly annoying. The mere thought of standing on a stage and having people stare at me causes me to break out in hives. Even as I’ve gained experience as a teacher and presenter over the years, I still feel like I’m going to be sick before each event. I continue to do it because I care a lot about the message, particularly if the message I’m delivering comes from my own experience.

I recently had lunch with my friend, Jeff, and I told him about my interest in taking a storytelling class at one of the New York improv theatres. He explained how wonderful certain storytelling classes are because they give the writers the opportunity to perform their own work. I casually glanced around the restaurant to make sure I could quickly locate the rest room in case I had a sudden case of early onset upset stomach. And by early onset I mean I haven’t even registered for the class yet much less gotten ready to perform. I dislike the stage that much.

I told Jeff I wasn’t really interested in performing my own work, and his off-the-cuff response was “Christa, no one tells the story better than the writer. There’s only so much that can be written down.” I’m sure my face dropped and I rolled my eyes, all out of fear. I knew Jeff was right and I realized in that moment that if I really want to take this class and get serious about live storytelling, then I have to face up to my battle with the stage. I hated Jeff for making that so obvious.

I hate his answer so much that for a few weeks I’ve tried to pretend he’s completely wrong and has no idea what he’s talking about. And then I read Bill Cosby’s book, which caused me to think about when I saw David Sedaris read from his books in person. And then there was no denying it – the delivery matters at least as much as the words on the page. Screw that up and even the most brilliantly funny story becomes unremarkable.

So I’ve been practicing my acting out. I read my posts aloud before I hit publish. I turn some into podcasts. And I’ll let you in on a little secret – my own stories, the ones I’ve actually lived, become more real to me when I hear them out loud in my own voice. I choke up, cry, laugh, and get angry. I feel the weight of the words in my mouth and their gravity on my shoulders. The performance of my stories, even just to myself in the mirror, has caused me to occasionally change some of the wording. Once I passed that milestone, I knew for certain that Jeff was right.     

Delivery matters more than we realize. It is a high art.

career, television, work, writing

Beginning: Career Advice from Andy Rooney

Christa Avampato
Andy Rooney as we will always remember him

Last week we lost a great icon of opinion writing. I will never forget the 60 Minutes episode in 2010 where Andy Rooney went to the Super Bowl, a pilgrimage for him for over 40 years running. I loved getting a glimpse of him out from behind his now-famous desk and in the world – driving his car, going through the stadium turnstile, and making his way to his seat. Episodes like this let us know that the Andy we knew and loved on television was exactly as he appeared to be – nothing more and nothing less.

When he stepped down from his post at 60 Minutes, I got the same horrible feeling I had when Steve Jobs stepped down from his post at Apple. He loved his job so much that this could only mean one thing: his time with us was coming to a close in every sense. Though we know him for his curmudgionly opinions and writing, he was also a solid defacto career coach.

At every age, he presented exactly who he was. He never towed any company line and he never tried to make nice for the sake of politics. His opinions were strong and well-researched. Disagree with him all you want, but there was no way to refute his intellect. Sometimes this “area of development”, as some would unfortunately term it, cost him his job. It’s also what made him distinctive and memorable. There will never be another Andy Rooney.

Most people I know scorn the idea of being defined by their jobs. Not Andy. He had a secret: if you work at what you love, then there’s no problem with the job defining who you are. The job is who you are. Like it or not, most of us spend a great deal of our waking lives at work. And if we’re going to spend that many hours working, then we might as well like it.

Andy persistently and adamantly did only work he loved. On Sunday’s edition of 60 Minutes, we watched Morley Safer interview Andy Rooney on the eve of his retirement. Watching the piece, it seemed so strange to me that he is no longer among us. Just weeks ago, he was so full of life, wit, and yes, opinions. Morley asked him what he’d do with his time if he had his career to do over again. Without missing a beat, Andy replied, “I’d get a weekly spot on 60 Minutes where I’d give my opinion about anything I wanted to talk about. I’d write it and I’d say it. I complain about a lot of things, but one thing I can’t complain about is my life.”

When my days are up, I hope I feel the same way. And I hope I have the chance to work at doing something I love until the ripe old age of 92 or beyond. What more from life, or a career, could we ask for? Thanks, Andy, for this final lesson. You will be missed.

business, career, change, time, writing

Beginning: My New Content Plan

Christa Avampato

For the past few years, my daily posts have revolved around a specific theme. In 2009, I wrote about my quest to have more hope. In 2010, I chronicled my steps toward building an extraordinary life. This year, I’ve taken up the challenge to become an expert beginner. As of late, I’ve found myself preoccupied, in writing and in living, with raising a call to action. In 2009, I learned the very painful and abundantly helpful truth that we are here on borrowed time. My apartment building fire cost me almost all of my belongings and nearly cost me my life. We don’t get to choose how long we’re here, and so if we’re waiting to do what we really want to do then we’re just wasting time.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how my content will evolve in 2012. What should my theme be? Who am I trying to help? What’s the biggest challenge I’m trying to overcome? I started to panic. No lightbulb moment seemed to find me. And then I remember the one simple question that starts every new product development project – “What gives you pain?”

By the end of 2012, I want to control how I spend all of my time. So my next journey is toward the goal of being my own boss and you’re invited to join me on this wild ride. To this end, my posts are going to take on a decidedly different direction. They’ll be a little punchier, a little more opinionated. I’ll let you in on what I’m reading, using, and doing to turn this idea into a reality. And it will all be related to the idea of “making business make sense.” Hence, this site’s new tagline. “Curating a Creative Life” served me well for 4. 5 years and I learned so much from it. Now it’s time to move on and embrace a new frontier that combines my love for business, creativity, and simplicity.

Taking my own advice, I decided not to wait until 2012 to kick off this new content strategy. Waiting never got anyone anywhere. The only way to move forward is to take a step in that direction, so here I go. Compass Yoga is taking off quickly, and I need to respond to this stroke of good fortune.

The greatest thing I learned in my year of beginnings is that NOW is the best time for a new beginning. Don’t wait for the calendar to turn to make a resolution, to dive into a new project, to seize the lucky moment. And in this moment, the world is asking for the business world to be simpler and more straight-forward. I can serve that mission; this moment was made for me.

As an editorial aside, taking control of all of my time means that I’ll be doing a considerable amount of other writing projects and business development work, particularly because Compass Yoga’s incorporation status moved much faster than I expected. To give myself that space and time, I’ll publish on this site 5 times per week – Monday to Friday, excluding major holidays – effective immediately.

Here’s to action!    

writer, writing

Beginning: Lessons From Crafting My First Book Proposal For A Literary Agent

Christa Avampato

Last week I wrote about taking the scary step of starting to contact literary agents through query letters. I have been pleasantly surprised to hear back from a few of them (which I was not at all expecting since I just started to send a handful of emails.) Yesterday, I heard from an agent who requested a formal proposal – the next step in the agent finding process.

While a query letter is very concise (a few paragraphs), a proposal is much more detailed. Again I consulted my guidebook on publishing, and found followed the formal format of a proposal. It contains:

  • Title
  • Synopsis
  • Author’s Background (narrative)
  • Market Potential
  • Competitive Works
  • Detailed Table of Contents
  • Sample Chapter(s)

My query letter is less than a page while my proposal clocks in at 22 pages (double-spaced). Proposals are a much larger undertaking, for the writer and the agent. It’s the next step in the “getting to know you” process and feels as much like a business plan as it does like a piece of narrative.

In addition to understanding the heft of the proposal, I also learned a few lessons through its writing that I thought would be helpful to those of you considering a similar route:

1.) Exercise great care in a proposal’s composition. One of the main tenets of Zen cooking is, “Treat your pots and pans as if they are your own eyes.” This is wonderful advice for all chefs. A book proposal in many ways is the writer’s equivalent to pots and pans. That proposal makes the creation of the book possible. 

2.) Read the agent’s bio again, as well as agency’s website (particularly if it offers submission guidelines.) Initially, the writer reads the agent’s bio on the agency website to find out if he or she is accepting proposals, and if so what genre those proposals should address. A word to the wise – if an agent says either A) he or she is not accepting submissions or B) they list the genres that interest them, abide by their wishes. No matter how great your cookbook is, if the agent isn’t accepting cookbook projects at this time, don’t submit one. All you’re doing is clogging their in-box with spam, even it’s eloquently written spam. You’re wasting your time and theirs. 

3.) Clearly understand your audience and competition. Who are you writing for, what do they need, and how does your book fulfill that need? I use the same construction that I use on a daily basis as a product developer. It might feel great to say, “My book is for everyone.” It’s not. You are writing on a particular topic that has a particular appeal to particular people. Talk to them. And know who else is talking to them so you can differentiate what you have to offer. Your book may certainly be useful to others beyond your target audience, but your target is your main concern. Focus – in trying to serve everyone, you serve no one.

4.) Have the proposal ready to go before you ever hit “send” on a query letter. You never know how fast the turnaround will be on your query and you want to have the proposal ready to go at a moment’s notice. If an agent writes to you and asks for a proposal, you don’t want to keep them waiting for weeks while you put it together. Also, the query letter takes most of its cue from the proposal and the proposal forces you to get clear on why you’re writing the book and what you have to say. My advice is to write the proposal first and then craft the query, even though you send the query to prospective agents and the proposal only to agents who express interest in reading it.

5.) Don’t get discouraged. Just as some agents may never respond to your query, not all agents who request a proposal will be interested in your book. It’s also helpful to know that when reading a query or proposal, an agent considers whether or not they have the connections (or can easily get them) to make the book successful. While your writing is a very personal matter, the agent’s decision-making process has more to it than whether or not they like a potential client’s writing.

dogs, Life, time, to-do lists, work, writing, yoga

Beginning: How I Find the Time

Christa Avampato

“You have to live your life spherically, in many directions.” ~ Frances Mayes, Under the Tuscan Sun

A lot of people ask me how I can live such a varied life with so many interests that don’t necessarily fit together in a logical way. I like being a Renaissance woman; I love figuring just how all the pieces come together, even if on the surface they seem to have nothing to do with each other. I am a firm believer in connections and relationships.

I’ve struggled a bit to come up with a good answer for people who truly want to know how I fit it all in, how all these subjects and activities can live side-by-side in my brain. Part of it is my training – I’ve been on a vertical learning curve all my life, so much so that it’s where I’m most comfortable and engaged. I like having a challenge nip at me until I crack the code. For me, that’s play.

But people don’t like that answer. It’s not enough of a silver bullet. And then it dawned on me (in the lady’s room, if you must know!): most people don’t give a hoot how I fit it all in and maintain so many simultaneous interests. They want to know how THEY can do that. They want “the how” that they can replicate. Now I’ve got a bit of a better answer to their question.

Generally, this is how time works in my brain:
In the morning, I am in list mode. I jot down everything I need to do for the day, in no particular order. I add to it throughout the day, though most of my to-do’s strike right when I wake up.

Some time between 5:30am and 6:30am I head out for a walk with my pup, Phineas. You might think this is a time suck because I walk him for a full hour and I don’t multi-task when I walk him. Trust me, I need it as much as he does. It clears my head to walk Phin and I find that the whole rest of my day is much more productive after I get some exercise with him. I often return with a mental list full of writing ideas and people I need to contact later on.

After my favorite meal, breakfast (another time when I don’t multi-task – I just focus on chewing), I plow through as much individual work (at home or at the office) as I can before noon because I’m a morning person and a late night person. I’m not so much of an afternoon person. (I blame my European roots for this!) If I’m commuting to work, I use the subway ride to flip through emails and read the top news stories, again making notes in my to-do list as they arise from my reading.

Then lunch rolls around and I usually read through lunch. Again, I check the news, get through some of my to-do list, and invariably add more to my to-do list. (I’ve noticed recently that I have a tendency to mindless gulp my lunch – I need to focus a bit more on my chewing this meal.)

Afternoons are for listening and gathering information. I try to have all of my meetings and phone calls in the afternoon. I’m sure there’s a brain study here, just waiting to happen. (Now adding this research to my to-do list!)

Most of the time I have plans after work, whether I’m teaching a class, taking a class, or seeing friends. That’s down time for me and recharges me for the evening. If I don’t have plans, then I take the time for myself at home.

When I arrive home, I play with Phin for a bit and read the note from his dog walker to see how he did in the afternoon. Sometimes we take a little jaunt around the block, depending upon how we’re both feeling.

I do some yoga and an 18-minute meditation every night. No matter what. I set get out my mat and bolster, set my timer, and get it done. No compromises.

Then I write, usually with Phineas sitting next to me. The writing part of my brain kicks in when the sun goes down. I’m not sure why – perhaps because the distractions of the day have fallen away by then. I feel like way up on the 17th floor, I can be alone with my thoughts when it’s dark outside. All the listening and gathering I’ve done throughout the day has had time to gel.

Yoga, meditation, and all of the personal work I’ve done over the last two years have paid off by banishing my lifetime of insomnia. Occasionally I toss and turn, though most of the time sleep finds me pretty easily. I take Phin out for a last quick minute (literally) and then I try to shut off the lights just after I catch the top stories of the 11pm news.

That’s an average work day for me. So far, it’s working though I’m always open to changing it up as needed. How does your day map out? How do you get it all done?

animals, books, dogs, story, writing, yoga

Beginning: Until Tuesday: A Wounded Warrior and the Golden Retriever Who Saved Him

Christa Avampato

“I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can’t see from the center.” ~ Kurt Vonnegut as quoted by Fmr. Captain Luis Carlos Montalván

I have read a handful of books in my life that have reached down into my soul and taken root. Fmr. Captain Luis Carlos Montalván’s book, Until Tuesday: A Wounded Warrior and the Golden Retriever Who Saved Him, is one of those books. Exquisitely written, Montalván and his beloved service dog, Tuesday, made me laugh, cry, and slam my fists on the table. I read much of it with Phineas, my own canine pal, in my lap, and the book made me hug Phineas even tighter than I usually do.

I  picked up the book after seeing Montalván and Tuesday on Letterman. I usually miss the show because it’s on past my bedtime, but for some reason I was awake that night with the TV on. Montalván’s story is tremendously important to me on a number of levels, and so immediately went out the next day and got the book.

Helping returning vets
With Compass Yoga, I am very focused on helping returning veterans, their families, and caregivers. Montalván taught me so much about war and the toll it takes on a person. His story is at points devastating and my heart felt crushed for all he endured, in Iraq and then once he returned from his tours of duty. The challenges of vets and those who are care for them are complex and messy, and Montalván writes about them in such searing detail that I sometimes felt myself right beside him. It’s a situation I very much need to understand if I am going to be of service to vets when they return home. The book reaffirmed my commitment to them.

Championing the healing power of animals
Tuesday is clearly an exquisite animal, inside and out. Though I’ve never met him, I certainly fell in love with him and his story over the course of the 252-page book. I have been a dog lover all my life. Our family dogs were an enormous part of my childhood – the very best part of it. I adopted my rescue pup, Phineas, a year ago and rehabilitating him has been one of the proudest and happiest achievement of my life. Even on my saddest days, he is a little ray of light in my life and to everyone who meets him. He is not without his challenges, though he has now become so engrained in my life that I can’t imagine being without him. That is the magic of animals, and dogs in particular – just by showing up they teach us about commitment, devotion, love, loyalty, and empathy – all of the things that make us human. They bring out the very best in all of us. I decided to enroll us in therapy dog training this Fall so I can bring him to schools and hospitals to visit. Goodness like Phin’s needs to be shared with the world – Tuesday taught me that.We need more Tuesdays, especially for veterans.

Writing honestly to achieve understanding
Montalván is a master storyteller, and what I so respect and admire most about him is his ability to write so candidly about painful and joyful parts of his life. It took great courage to put pen to page to write this story. He is not a perfect man, and in his honest writing he teaches us that we can’t expect ourselves to be perfect either. He writes about forgiveness and authenticity. He speaks with confidence, grace, wisdom, and strength. He inspired me to continue my own personal writing, particularly about my father, which is a painful and tragic part of my past. Montalván taught me that there is so much redemption available to us through honest and thoughtful writing. He taught me just how mighty the pen can be, and just how capable we are of forgiving ourselves and others.

Until Tuesday is a truly beautiful book, a great gift that I am so grateful to receive. And so I pass the recommendation on to you – let Tuesday into your heart and he will change the way you see the world.

movie, story, writing

Beginning: The Only Advice About Writing (and Life!) You’ll Ever Need, Courtesy of Pixar

Christa Avampato

“Find out how a character feels, and why he feels that way. That’s how we write stories.” ~ a member of Disney’s 9 Old Men

Last week I watched the documentary The Pixar Story. Their story is one of resilience and confidence, vision and courage. They are the stuff dreams are made of, and that includes plenty of doubt and failure, grueling schedules and conflict. That company fought for every success they’ve had, and against all odds. It’s better than anything they’ve ever put on screen, and what they’ve put on screen is phenomenal.

They are master storytellers. It’s the most important work they do. The effects and the artistry is groundbreaking and beautiful. It transports us to another world, and it’s all done in service of the story. They take the advice in the quote above very seriously, and it’s been a good reminder to me as I work on new writing projects and genres. All I ever have to do to create a compelling story is to find out how my characters feel, and why they feel that way.

This sentiment is so simple and powerful, not only for writing, but also for living. You seek enlightenment? Get to the bottom of your emotions and you’ll find all the wisdom you’ll ever need.

books, writer, writing

Beginning: The Generosity of Books

Christa Avampato

“For some of us, books are as important as almost anything else on earth. What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you.” ~ Anne Lamott

Anne Lamott is one of my favorite authors. I keep her books close by – she’s taught me about writing and faith, fiction and biography, the human heart’s resilience even when faced with the toughest human conditions. She made me realize the wonder of thoughtful writing.

I use books and writing to take me away. When I was younger, I used them as a way to let my imagination travel. They would help me consider new possibilities; they helped me learn how to dream bigger and brighter. In books, there are no boundaries, and so I realized the same was true of life.

In many ways, I became a writer to pay it forward. Books made me free, even when my circumstances seemed so binding. I wanted to give that gift to someone else, anyone else who wanted as extraordinary life as I want. Books and writing give us a way to give and to get exactly what we need.

art, books, story, writer, writing

Beginning: Author As Art Director

Christa Avampato
Scene from The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore

In the past few months, I’ve been working on some fiction writing for a young adult audience. It’s a fun and interesting project, and it stretches my skills as a writer. I can write lifestyle-type pieces, as I do for this blog, with a certain ease after 4+ years of daily writing. Over 1400 days of practice, and counting.

Fiction is something different. When I write for this blog, I know where I’m going. With fiction, the future is an open road and while you may have a map, the characters take on a life of their own. You have to find out what they’re feeling, and why they feel that way. Sometimes they make you laugh out loud and sometimes they break your heart. The author may create these characters, but like children they grow up to be independent with their own ideas about the world they live in. The author just has to get it all down as honestly as possible.

The story I’m trying to tell is fantastical and though I’m not a terribly visual person, I’ve found myself imaging scenes and colors, as if I’m on the outside of a large picture window, peering in with my hands framing my eyes. I’ve struggled a bit with how to describe in words what I see in my mind’s eye, with how to communicate to a reader everything that I imagine. How do I get the reader to see all of the detail I see, exactly as I see it.

And then I came across “The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore”, a creation of Moonbot Studios. The story is not quite a cartoon, not quite an ebook. It’s a delightful mash-up of the two, and it is the new poster child of just what’s possible with electronic books, particularly for a young audience.

After watching “The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore”, I realized that writers and storytellers have just picked up another hat. I can now imagine a time not too far off when people will laugh about the term “transmedia storytelling” because all stories will have to jump across different mediums with ease in order to delight an audience with increasingly savvy expectations. It won’t just be a nice bonus, but required development. Writers, grab your virtual paintbrushes – you’re going to need them!