Category: writing

career, writer, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Our Defining Value

Christa Avampato

“You could argue that every profession has its defining value. For carpenters, it might be accuracy: a carpenter who isn’t accurate shouldn’t be a carpenter. For diplomats, it might be loyalty: they can lie and spy and cheat and pull all sorts of dirty tricks, and as long as they are loyal to their government, they are doing their job. For journalists, the defining value is honesty–the attempt to tell the truth. That is our primary purpose. All that we do–all that is said about us–must flow from the single source of truth-telling.” ~ Nick Davies in Flat Earth News

My friend, Jamie, sent this quote to me today. His professor, Andy Gelman, posted it on his blog. It got me thinking about how this applies not only to professions, but to our lives in general and who we are, what we stand for. Many people are defined by their jobs. One side effect of this tough economy is that many people who have lost their jobs (and in some cases lost their entire industry) are being forced to reconsider who they are when their jobs are peeled away.

When I was a kid, I loved Mr. Rogers. My favorite part of the show was the very beginning when he would come into his house, take off his dress shoes, and put on his sneakers – signaling that he had left the outside world and his job behind. The fun was about to begin the moment he put on his sneakers.

I live this kind of life, too. The moment I leave my office and hop onto the subway to zip home, I take off my work title and become a writer – exactly what I am at my core. I write almost every day and collect quotes, magazine articles, books, and experiences that all get rolled into my material. They are the stories and activities that comprise my life. And my one truth that I’m living is to be helpful – to write something that makes a difference, that gives someone some inspiration, gets them through the day with a little wider smile and a little more hope for tomorrow.

Examiner, family, friendship, relationships, Tim Russert, volunteer, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Tim Russert, revisited

Christa Avampato

This weekend it’s been one year since we lost Tim Russert. It’s only fitting that I’d happen to be in DC this weekend with friends who are celebrating some very big events in their lives – weddings, new jobs, and a general sense of hope despite a tough economy. When Tim passed away one year ago, what stood out to me what the comment that he lived every day as if he had just won the lottery. I wanted to live my life that way, too, so I set about doing that.

I thought about every area of my life and put some ideas into action to improve each. One year later, I’m doing pretty well. It’s not the lottery feeling just yet, though there are many, many things that I am grateful for:

I have certainly expanded my writing: blogging daily with an eye toward publishing a selection of posts at year-end as a free e-book and blogging about entrepreneurship for my Examiner.com column.

With my friends and family, I have put forward a significant amount of effort to spend quality, individual time. I used to run around as much as possible to try to fit time in with everyone all the time. The trouble with that method is that I ended up short-changing each, and short-changing myself. The quality time method is working much better.

In my volunteering, I wanted to extend more effort in areas that really interested me. Along with a colleague at work, I am beginning to put together a social media plan for a theatre company I admire. I took my social media interest and knowledge, my background in theatre, and roll-ed it up to do some pro-bono work that will help me build up a portfolio in this area. Using a little creativity, I created a win-win situation for all.

The work side of my life is always a work in progress. With the economy in tough shape, it’s the area of my life where I’ve had to make some compromises. I am learning a lot every day – about product development, what to do and what not to do (I’ve found the later to be just as important as the former), and I’ve learned what kind of work is best suited for me going forward. I’ve really developed the insight that I am passionate about small business (thanks in large part to my Examiner.com column); whether that means working for a small business or working for a large company that helps small businesses, I’m not sure. At the very least, it feels good to finally have that direction in my career and it keeps me looking forward.

Winning the lottery in life is a process – every day, we have to make choices and renew our commitment to living the best life we can. It takes courage to get up and follow our hearts in each area of our lives. And no matter how much work it is, there is no more worthwhile pursuit. I hope Tim would agree.

books, entrepreneurship, Examiner, technology, writer, writing

NY Business Strategies Examiner.com: Interview with Bob Young, CEO of Lulu

Christa Avampato

As a writer, I am very interested in Lulu.com, a start-up that helps authors self-publish and promote their work. Gail Jordan, the Director of Publicity at Lulu, was kind enough to arrange an interview for me with Lulu’s CEO, Bob Young. Gail summed up Lulu’s mission very eloquently. “Lulu is a tremendous example of the entrepreneurship of our founder and CEO, Bob Young, as well as being a place where writers, who are often entrepreneurs themselves, are empowered to publish and profit from their work.” What an inspiring reason for being!

To read the interview, please visit:
http://www.examiner.com/x-2901-NY-Business-Strategies-Examiner~y2009m6d1-Interview-with-Bob-Young-CEO-of-Lulu

family, friendship, happiness, learning, New York City, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Small moments

Christa Avampato
Lately, I’ve been trying a trick on the subway to make my commute to and from work more enjoyable. Trains are packed during rush hour and invariably I end up next to someone with some annoying habit. This morning, it was this woman who was obsessively turning the pages of the newspaper and folding it over, covering the pages of the book I was reading. I normally would have gotten very irritated with this woman. Instead, I looked at this as an opportunity for character study.

I stopped reading my book and just studied this woman. What was she wearing? How is her hair done? What part of that paper is she actually reading? Then when I got to work, I wrote down everything I could remember about her, along with some ideas for a backstory of who that woman is, what she does, and where she’s going. Eventually, she’ll turn up in some piece of writing I do. This trick is honing my observation skills, and reminds me of how much I love being a writer – every moment and inertaction, good, bad, or indifferent, has potential to be material.

I’m learning that life isn’t about the big moments, it’s about the many small ones that comprise every one of our days. My life is about my subway ride to work, my lunch time walks with my friend, Jamie. It’s about seeing my friends for dinners and movies. It’s about being on skype with my niece, Lorelei, and having her recognize my face. It’s about the books and blogs I read, the person I give directions to as they pass by me on the street. It’s about buying my groceries, and calling my mom, and getting a coffee as I walk around my neighborhood. It’s about laughing with my sister, Weez, and enjoying the warmth of sun on my face on a Sunday afternoon.

And this ‘little moment philosphophy’ is true of writing as much as it is true of life. I’ve often longed for a time when I am writing as if some great voice from beyond is speaking to me, and every word I write shows up on the page as if it were meant to be there. The truth is writing, for me, is a daily grind. I sit down and look at a very blank page every day. I sometimes sit down and have no idea what to write about or how to phrase my thoughts coherently. What matters is that I show up and keep trying. Every day, my only goal in my writing and in my life is to get just a little bit better than I was yesterday. Somedays I do a brilliant job of this and other days I fall short. On average I’m making small amounts of progress.

I’m learning that small, steady progress is much better that huge leaps forward and backwards. There’s a lot to be learned and explored during small moments. They’re my favorite parts of relationships and friendships; they’re always the things in my life that I treasure most.

Sometimes people ask me “what’s your greatest accomplishment” or “what’s your greatest failure”. I don’t have any greatest anythings. I have a lot of small things I love and cherish, I’ve had a lifetime of moments that taught me something, and when you add up all of those small things, their collective power is extraordinary. And I wouldn’t trade those thousands of small moments for a handful of aha’s, no matter how great those aha’s are. Small moments, and lots of them, suit me just fine.

comedy, entertainment, humor, writer, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Empty Your Pockets

Christa Avampato

Last night I was flipping through the channels and landed on PBS which was airing a biography of Carol Burnett – one of my all-time favorite entertainers. I have fond memories of watching the show with my family, and my mother would laugh so hard she could barely breathe. I never knew much about her childhood before this biography. Her story of endurance and love and what her family termed her “pipe dream” is inspiring. 

After Carol Burnett’s biography, PBS aired a shorter biography of Erma Bombeck, one of my mom’s favorite authors. I would read her column in my mom’s magazine’s as a kid and found her so funny, engaging, and honest. I wanted to write that way. The biography ended with Erma’s untimely death from kidney disease and they captured how she viewed life with one of her most famous pieces:

I always had a dream that when I am asked to give an accounting of my life to a high court, it will be like this:  ‘So, empty your pockets. What have you got left of your life?  Any dreams that were unfilled?  Any unused talent that we gave you when you were born that you still have left?  Any unsaid compliments or bits of love that you haven’t spread around?’

And I will answer, “I have nothing to return.  I spent everything you gave me.  I’m as naked as the day I was born.”

Isn’t that how all of us should answer? Why return any bit of energy, any dream or wish or hope? We don’t ever get it back. Once we make our graceful exit to the other side, anything we hoped to start, try, or finish will have to fall to someone else. That’s no way to go out, and frankly it’s not fair to the rest of us for you to be selfish and keep you dreams and talents to yourself. This world needs you; it needs all of us and everything we’ve got. 

blog, blogging, Facebook, social media, writing

Is it quantity or quality?

Christa Avampato

The debate continues about quantity versus quantity in the world of social media. Do you want more Twitter followers or are you more concerned with having followers who are interested in your life, share interesting articles and activities with you, and building dialogue? The same is true of traffic on a website: do you care more about how many people subscribe to your newsletter and blog feed or how many people actually read it rather than tossing it in the recycle bin without even opening it?


The best possible scenario for trying to build web traffic is to have a lot of brand advocates who are passionate about the site. However, if I had to choose between a small group of people who really care about the site and visit it often and a large group of people who stop by once, maybe subscribe to a feed or newsletter, and rarely read my writing, I would absolutely choose the former. It goes back to that time-honored phrase, “take care of your people (in this case, your community members) and they will take care of the brand (in this case, the site).”

Now sites like Facebook are in that rare crossroads of having a lot of followers who are very passionate about the brand. I am one of them – I LOVE Facebook. I’m on there all the time, poking around, updating my status, emailing friends far and near. Most sites will never get that kind of traffic so they usually have to choose: lots of surface conversations or a small group of meaningful conversations?

Let’s be realistic – my blog is never going to be Facebook. And that’s fine – that’s good, actually. I have a small group of readers that I love who read and comment on my writing regularly – some on my blog, some in person when I see them, some in very kind emails that they send me. They are extremely special people to me. I know a little bit, or a lot in some cases, about them and we have a good dialogue and exchange of ideas. If this blog were Facebook, I couldn’t devote the time, care, attention, and honesty I do to the fun part – the writing. I’m one person writing about topics and people I care about. And that is a blessing to be able to do.  
books, retail, writing

Grey Bracelets and David Sedaris

Christa Avampato

My friend, Liane and Steve, and I tried to go see David Sedaris at the 66th Street Barnes and Noble in Manhattan. We were stopped at the door. Why? No receipt for a book, and no bracelet. What’s worse – if you had a “grey bracelet” (meaning you didn’t go to the Avery Fisher Hall show of David’s) you were told to go wander around the store and you would be called when you were allowed to meet David. “Don’t stand by this door, grey bracelet holders. It won’t help you,” cried the disgruntled Barnes & Noble worker. Or maybe she was just a naturally angry woman. They have a grey bracelet, not a disease. They aren’t “untouchables”. Calm down, lady. And frankly, if they want to stand by the door, who are they harming? 


Hmmm….I like David Sedaris’s writing, but honestly, is there any reason to treat his fans badly? Is the security detail similar to that of the Pope appropriate or necessary? Given his humble economic background, you’d think he’d have more empathy for those of us who couldn’t get to his show. Maybe fame has gone to his head, or maybe he just has a real stick-in-the mud for a publicist. I’m going with the latter. I love his writing too much to think that behind those funny stories lies a guy who’s too high on himself.   

I was going to drop this whole issue and not write about it. But then when I was telling a friend of mine about the event, and he said David Sedaris would probably find the whole bracelet caste system funny. So here’s hoping he somehow finds this post, reads it, laughs a bit, and then changes the policy the next time he is in NYC promoting his books.  
books, literature, technology, writing

Virtual Bookshelf

Christa Avampato

This week I finally purchased a set of bookshelves from Crate & Barrel that I’ve been coveting for a year. They display my books so beautifully that they’ve become a piece of art. I took a stroll past the shelves this evening, admiring my skills of putting together 9 straight pieces of wood with an Allen wrench and a few screws. I realized that these books aren’t just a collection of reference materials or thought-provoking stories. They are a diary of where I’ve been and interests I’ve developed over a number of years. They are beloved childhood memories and reminders of very long nights spent in a library, pouring over their pages, while in school. Some are like old friends that I visit again and again for guidance, for strength, for inspiration. 


This morning  read David Churbuck’s post about the virtual bookshelf. He loves his Kindle, though he worries that it’s destroying perhaps the greatest joy of literature – sharing it. Lending books to people, swapping them with one another, and then discussing their merits. He questions the selfishness that we embrace with our new electronic devices. 

That set me to thinking about how we might combine technology and literature in a win-win, rather than consuming one at the jeopardy of the other. This idea is particularly poignant to me because of a fiction piece I am working on that revolves around this very idea – a children’s story that I began after taking a stroll through one of the increasingly rare used book stores in New York City. I love my local Barnes & Noble, though there is something magical in the mustiness of those bookshelves that contain texts far older than me. There is history living in those shelves – those books represent pieces of people’s lives, the same way that my books represent mine. 

I don’t have any good answers for this conundrum of technology co-existing with literature, though its a question I’ll be considering in the days and years to come. I’d love to hear your thoughts and comments if you’d like to share them.     

books, education, letter, writer, writing, youth

A Letter to My Younger Self

Christa Avampato

I just finished reading “What Now?” by Ann Pachett. It is her graduation speech to the students of Sarah Lawrence, her alma mater. She talks about crossroads and decisions and happy coincidences. It made me think about a book I read about two years ago called “What I Know Now: Letter to My Younger Self” where a variety of women write letters to themselves when they were younger.

I wrote my own letter to my younger self as part of a final project in business school for a leadership class. I realized I’ve never posted it to this blog, and I went back to read it today. Not only is it a letter to my younger self – it’s a good reminder of how I should be living every day. The letter pertains to many of the principles we learned in the class, the main premise being that if you start every day with 94 out of 100 points, the way a gymnast starts every routine, how will you get to 100? This idea is adapted from Peter Vidmar’s, part of the US Olympic gymnastics team in the 1980’s, motivational speeches that he gives all over the world.

I hope you’ll share your letter here as well.

“Dear Bella,
How are you going to get the other 6? Extend for 2. Take risks for another 2. Be creative to get to 100. Decide what about you remains rock solid and what changes you must make if you are to develop the potential you represent. What really matters?

Denial, passivity, collusion, and habits will try to obstruct your path to change. Work through these phases by trusting life, by trusting that when a door closes, a window opens. Change is about loss. It may be years before you understand why some losses are necessary in order to achieve greater wins down the road. Do not fear – help is on the way. Do not wait for trauma, hurt, or pain to make necessary changes; work toward clearly perceiving a better way.

Disappointment is not the fault of others; it is the result of your own premature cognitive commitment. Don’t be so quick to ignore or dismiss the logs and rocks. Understanding their motivations, or lack thereof, will hold the key to your growth.

Be wary of the boxes: those you put yourself in, those you put others in, those others put you in, and those you allow others to put you in. You must decide which boxes hold your truth.

What vision of the future will sustain you through the valleys of your life and then help you climb to the summits? You choose your energy level, enthusiasm, and sense of hopefulness. Trust is gained by behaving trustworthy.

Eliminate “but” from your vocabulary because everything that comes before it is a lie; replace it with the powerful word “and”.

People will tell you that you feel too much, trust too much, and believe in dreams too much. Smile at them and walk on – feeling, trusting, and believing. Because you feel, you think, and therefore you’re unabashedly, delightfully, and magically exactly who you’re meant to be.
Believing is seeing.

Love,
Christa”

business, education, innovation, writing

Where to place our efforts

Christa Avampato

While in business school, I participated in the Innovation Challenge – a program that asks teams of business school students all over the world to solves a set of business challenges put forward by a handful of sponsor organizations. This year I was invited to be a judge in the competition and just completed the first round of judging. 


Someday, when I am old and wise (or at least old), I’d like to teach a class at a business school for one very simple reason. While I think our business schools may be teaching the fundamentals of how to value a bond and manage a P&L, they aren’t teaching a skill that is so crucial to success that many assumed it was an ability that everyone has – being able to write clearly and concisely. This afternoon, I would have settled for written proposals for the Innovation Challenge that were at least free of typos, used correct grammar, and exhibited a grasp of basic English vocabulary. 

Of the 11 proposals I was asked to judge, 2 of them were well-done. The ideas and solutions put forward by 2 teams were innovative and creative with sound success metrics and a long-term vision. Beyond those feats, they were also well-written. The other 9 were awful. Truly awful. Forget about the solutions not being feasible or short-sighted. Several were so badly written that I could barely read them. Those 9 badly-written proposals have nothing to do with talent or education level. It has everything to do with care and concern, or lack thereof. 2 teams put together the best case they possibly could. 9 of them slapped together some sentences in record time and handed it in.  

I considered writing a long set of notes for each team, and then I considered that that wouldn’t be fair to the 2 teams that put in so much of their own effort. So I wrote a paragraph for the 9 who didn’t care about the project, and saved my lengthy responses and comments for those 2 teams who got their act together.

After I completed my evaluations, I thought about my work experience and my own business school education. No matter what company or set of circumstances are in place, there are always a few people in the pack who shine because they are concerned about the quality of their work and how their work reflects on them. As business leaders, or teachers or judges of a case competition, our role is not to dwell on the ones who don’t put in the time or care or concern. That is a road to nowhere. It’s important to place the emphasis on the ones who want to do well and will take the time to put together the best they have to offer. That best won’t always be perfect – sometimes it won’t even be any good. I’m happy to spend time helping those who want to help themselves rather than spending it on people who don’t even care enough to run the spell check on their writing before they hand it in.