Open Nodes

When I was attending the Denver Publishing Institute in the summer of 2008 I was enduring a crash course in what the publishing industry was about. And while they overwhelmed our brains with info that isn't exactly the end game practice of publishing, it certainly gave a glimpse of the industry as a whole and bred motivating enthusiasm for jumping head first into achieving career goals. But much of its focus was building a network of publishing professionals that shared the same passion to get books into the hands of everyone. They tried to impart the importance of networking. Not in a sleazy "get what you want" kind of way--though that aspect is certainly present everywhere--but more in the let's all work together to get where we want to be kind of way.

While this new perspective of networking was wedging its way into my brain matter I lucked upon a blog by a young independent author I'd been following at the time. Blake Butler was in the midst of his early days of getting his name out there. Writing bizarre fiction and doing his damnedest to get his work in front of people. He wrote a blog that really struck home for me and echoed the thoughts coming at me from DPI, but with a stronger more down to earth approach. His argument basically stated, Be an Open Node.

If you read his post it list ways that you can be a solid literary citizen. Write to authors you like to tell them you enjoy their work. Review author's work you enjoy to share why someone ought to read it as well. Interview other writers. And start a journal. His ideas are certainly very specific to the literary world of up and coming writers trying to make a name for themselves, but I've since begun to assimilate his thoughts into my own view of networking.

I approach networking mostly as an opportunity for me to help others. I truly enjoy helping folks that I meet who can honestly express their passion for something they want career wise. I may not personally have the opportunity that person is seeking, but if I can connect them with someone who might, or someone who knows someone who might, then I'd like to help. I'm not advocating for giving up what you want so someone else can get what they want or spending all of your time focused on helping others, but don't shy away from opening doors for others if you can possibly guide them on a short length of their journey.

When I was set to move from one department of my company to another, I thought of who might replace me. The fella who'd taken my place when I was in another part of the company didn't exactly have a lot of opportunities to expand his horizons and while I don't make claims to getting him nearer to any goals he might have personally, I do feel good helping him get into a better work environment. I spoke with my supervisors and recommended he be given a chance to contribute. And it worked.

I was invited to my old publishing program in Denver to talk to students there this last August. I met one who was moving to Portland and interested in getting into comics after an internship. We met for coffee and I later introduced her to two people I thought might be good resources in the field who'd likely have more doors to open for her. About two months later she's working for one of the people I introduced her to. This makes me feel amazing. Again, I didn't have an opportunity ready for her myself, but if I can be an open node willing to assist someone on their journey then I consider it a win.

Be an Open Node. Be willing to help others achieve success. Encourage those you care about and those who show a genuine passion for a positive pursuit. Be optimistic that despite all of our terrible flaws as humans we have the ability to positively impact others. Be an Open Node.

The Basilisk

I got scared. Frozen by fear.

This evening I went out to a movie with a large crew of folks from where I work and some who used to work there. It's a gathering of really amazing people that happens often for big crazy movies.

We were watching The Lego Movie and it was better than it had any right to be. I really love watching movies like that with that group of people, because they give me permission to simply enjoy the movie as I might have had I seen it when I was 11. Just amazed by all the wonder that they can create.

And then the movie ended and we gathered outside the theater to decide what to do next. As that group often does, they followed the default plan of heading to a Bar named North as it's close to where a large percentage of them live in SE Portland area. It's a bar I like a great deal. And in that moment I agreed that I would go with them. I had driven myself and so I headed for my little Red Hyundai hatchback named Ron Weasley to follow along.

But when I climbed into the driver seat, I froze. This overwhelming fear came over me and I couldn't decide what to do. The group that I was with is a good group of people. They are welcoming, honest, realistic, kind and generally all around good people. So when I explain this fear know that I truly am revealing my own neuroses. I got scared that I would have to participate in conversation.

I'm not terrible in conversation, but neither is it a natural ability for me. Conversation is a learned skill of which I am all too self-aware. Which hinders a real immersion in the experience. I spend so much time thinking about how I should respond, what that reaction should look like, what question I should ask next, if I am speaking or telling a story in a way that is eliciting the ideal reaction from my audience. This doesn't happen with people I am really comfortable with or if somehow I have figured out a way to shut this part of my brain off, but it does happen often.

The reason I am big, big fan of parties or gatherings that include dance or karaoke is that I can lose myself in those things so that I don't have to converse with people for more than a surface level interaction. When we talk with someone, even in small talk we seek a connection. That connection makes us vulnerable. This is a good thing. This is healthy. And I am afraid of it. So at such gatherings I can sing a song or dance, because somehow those actions feel so much more natural to me. I'm not worried about how those actions will stand up during interaction with someone else.

Is it weird that I feel like the language I use to try and be as clear as possible feels so robotic?

So I froze. I sat in my car for a good 15-20 minutes just trying to figure out what I should do. The thought of sitting in conversation with these awesome people scared the shit out of me. I battled back and forth in my head. Should I go and just brave that vulnerability? Or just accept this overwhelming feeling and ride it out. And here I am riding out the anxiety.

The problem is decisions like this isolate me from others. It keeps me from building larger networks of friends that I trust to have real conversations with. The only way to build a sense of comfort with new people is to put yourself out there and test the boundaries. Yeah, sometimes I'm going to get hurt, sometimes it's not going to go well and I'm going to feel like I have no safety net. But sometimes, just sometimes, I'm going to find that I can really express myself, without being frozen by fear.

The Basilisk is only defeated when you face it head on and bare yourself. It's a painful process, but it is in fact worth it. So chalk this evening up as a point against me on the scoreboard. You win this time Basilisk. But next time...next time...