Second: There is a big psychological hump on starting this second draft. Do I reread all the notes? Do I reread all of my chapters? Fuck. A big stinking heap of threads, all of which are worthy of attention, but none of which seems more important than others. I need to find a way to break it back down again to simple pieces. Haven’t found it yet. Currently choking on chapter 1. It wasn’t written in the same way as the others, and I find myself falling into the trap of grandstanding and trying to swing big right hands. First chapter should be a small number of well paced solid jabs, yes? Don’t know why my fingers seem to want to do something grand and swing for the stands. (And what’s with the boxing analogies, hmm?)
Ha. Ha ha ha. I am on chapter 12. What would you be doing right now had you stayed at Microsoft? eh? I bet you wouldn’t have even read a book up to chapter twelve. Yet here I am. La de da. Woo hoo. Look at me.
For reasons I can not explain a persistent craving I’ve had for the last two months is for Charleston chews. Yes, that’s right. The original flavor. I even tried to satisify said craving, twice: once on my road trip to Denver. Once again after I got back. But it’s still there.
I’m at 2/3rds mark and it seemed smart to go talk to people – interview people – and get some new perspectives. Just shut up and listen to other people rant about managing teams and projects. So I’ve lined up a list of about 10 or 12 people I’ve worked with, or knew, that a) would be willing to chat b) would have something interesting to say c) managed to line-up their schedules with mine. Going well so far – I’m doing good at the staying quiet part. So far I haven’t felt there’s much a want to change about the book as written, but I bet these interviews are refining my ideas, or shifting how I’m going to write about things.
I needed a break from working on my first book. I decided to drive from Seattle, WA to Denver, CO to visit Chris McGee one of my best friends from Carnegie Mellon University.
Here’s the travelogue I wrote on the way:
I got really good at getting gas. I mean really really good. I can do regular, super, or even supreme unleaded. I also know my way around any gas minimart, blindfolded. So if this book writing thing doesn’t work out, I think I have a new career lined up (Funny story: When I pulled in to a gas station in Oregon, a guy walks up to my window and taps on it. I roll it down and say, “what do you want?” and he looks at me like I’m an idiot. “what kind of gas do you want?” he asks ,and I look around, unsure as to what the hell he’s doing, and respond “uh, I can get it myself.” to which he smiles, still somehow annoyed at me, saying “but I’m supposed to get it for you” and points to the gas pump, as if I didn’t know where it was. Finally I realize he’s trying to tell me it’s a full service station. I laugh and explain to him my confusion, to which he says “Welcome to Oregon!” which makes me want to stab him repeatedly with my credit card. Anyway, my point here is that if I move to Oregon (or NJ, another fine state known for it’s full service stations) I can obtain employment gassing up cars for idiot out of state drivers. So there.)
Somewhere in Wyoming I saw a red van driving way too fast with luggage strapped on the roof, and watched as said luggage flew off, exploding open on the road, and clothes went flying. I couldn’t stop laughing. Underwear, shirts and pants were everywhere. They pulled off to the shoulder and did the road trippers walk of shame up the highway, trying to grab unmentionables before they flew away.
Driving 600 or so miles a day, I had a sense of weather. I could always see storm fronts an hour before I’d hit them, and then drive through and pass out the other side. Had a real sense for how weather moved, and since the sky is so big (no buildings) most of the time, I found myself predicting weather. I lucked out for the most part – only a had a few short stretches of rain. I realized that driving on the road, as opposed to flying, keeps you close enough to things that you have a sense of speed. In a plane, the distances and speeds are surreal – you can’t connect with them (except for takeoff and landing). But in a car passing through weather patterns, i felt more aware and connected to the systems of landscapes that I would otherwise… you know… valley, forest, mountain, forest valley, hill, mountain… and how the weather systems work near and around mountains.. . (Though, unlike a walk in the woods, I did miss out on all of the details and smaller systems…)
I had a cell phone for the trip – boy, do cell phones suck. Yeah, I know I was in the middle of nowhere half the time, but there is nothing more annoying than a phone that half-works. What good is a picture/mp3/voicerecorder/game player/screwdriver/nosepicker/phone, if I can’t hear what the other guy is saying? How about a Morse-code phone? At least then I could get some information through – Hearing only one out of every three syllables really isn’t much fun. I had one phone conversation with Jill that lasted about 20 seconds, half of which was spent laughing at how incomprehensible we each were.
Somewhere in Idaho or Wyoming I’m cruising along at near 80mph, when a sleek silver sporty sedan (say that 5 times fast) pulls up next to me, honking it’s horn again and again. Alarmed, I look over – there, pushed up against the passenger side window, is a centerfold of some really nasty pornography (which was mostly impossible to make out, other than the fact there were naked bodies of some kind, doing lots of things with other naked bodies). The car is filled with a bunch of college age kids laughing their heads off (not at me directly, but more so at the absurdity of what they were doing… I think), and I couldn’t help but start laughing myself. It was certainly the funniest, and most creative thing I’d seen anyone do all day. Then to ice it off, I watched as they passed me, drove up to the next car, and the next car, repeating the same activity. Gotta hand it to them – I bet they gave lots of people a story to tell when they got home… There’s something to be said for the people who give us stories to tell.
Books on tape rock. I really never understood this whole idea at all, but I finally got it on this trip. I got a BBC Radio version of Lord of the rings, and it rocked. It was soooo much fun to listen to (and you can skip past the songs reaaaally easily). It was 13 CDs long, but I finished it 400 miles before I got in to Denver. I also had Hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy (Douglas Adams), a favorite childhood book – that was ok, but it was just him reading it. I think the radio versions of stuff are way better – the sound effects, the acting, the different voices. I tried to get the hobbit radio show as well, but it didn’t come till later. (Also: I don’t think Hitchhiker’s guide has aged well. I found it more like a book for teenagers – it seems great for that age when you first discover Monty Python, same kind of mentality, but I didn’t find that the humor made me more than smile. Maybe I’m old, or I know the story too well. I also found the story more cynical that I remember – it’s kind of a downer.. .at least through the restaurant at the end of the universe).
The best western hotel 50 miles outside of Boise has a 24 hour indoor pool. Getting in at 10:30pm at night after driving all day, it was a road trippers dream hotel. I swam for an hour or so, and had a great night sleep. (They also had chocolate chip cookies at the front desk – THEY WERE FREE! FREEE COOKIES! WOOHOO! Life’s little thrills – you appreciate the little things more when you’re traveling all day I guess. Another reason travel is so healthy for the souly soul).
The Great salt lake stinks. Seriously, it smells. They should call it the big stink lake (though I can see how tourism might decline with a name like that) The thing looks like old soapy water. Like what you see in the bathtub after washing your dog. There’s no boats or anything on it, and no marinas or docks – so even though it’s only a few miles from the city, and it’s huge, it’s sort of like a post war bomb zone: nothing around. It’s huge and dramatic though (look at my little map: see how insanely large the lake is?), going on forever past the horizon – small mountains near it and everything, but there’s something ominous and foreboding about it. Like a haunted, but pretty, place. Salt Lake city itself is cute – nestled inside a small stretch of mountains. I didn’t spend the night there though, so I can’t say much else about it.
I realized a bit late how much cool shit there is in Utah. All kinds of world class national parks and stuff – Chris gave me the low down while on the road, but I chose not to take the extra day required to get down south and back. I do think I’ll head back to Utah though (never thought I’d say that).
Wyoming is windy. Really windy. The valleys are windy and the mountains are windy too. I started to think of the state as Windoming. Or perhaps Winding. Maybe Wyoming is the Indian word for stinky wind? Here’s a wind related story to drive this windy point home: When I took a scenic side route into an eastern mountain range off the main highway, and hit construction (one lane road, alternating directions..) , I spent 10 minutes talking to the construction guy, the dude holding the stop sign, about how windy it was. him: “Hey, pretty windy huh?”, Me: “Uh.. yeah, I guess so.”, “Yeah, it gets like this sometimes.. .know what i mean?”, me “uh, yeah, I guess so..”, etc. for about 10 minutes. Nice guy, but he wouldn’t shut the fuck up no matter how loud I made my radio. I guess it gets lonely standing by the side of the road all day, in the wind. And while we talked, one of his coworkers behind him struggled to light a cigarette: can you guess why? the wind.
Chris showed me a great time around Denver – we drove through Vale and Aspen, went white water rafting near Buena vista, played with his and Heather’s grand pack of dogs, and had drinks at a funky western bar known as the Skylar. Driving west on I70 with him was one of the cooler drives of the trip – lots of good conversation and the sights weren’t bad either – the highway weaves inside a narrow canyon, with one half elevated and tunneling through mountain sides. It’s a gorgeous drive – and in retrospect, I’d rather have done this stretch again, instead of heading north through Wyoming to get home (although this wasn’t a choice if I wanted to get to little big horn).
I was stuck between two towns as the NBA finals were on. So I had to listen to the 4th quarter in Spanish, since there was only one station I could get that was broadcasting the game ( I can’t even to begin to explain this. It was like 1560 on the AM.. only station I could get that wasn’t playing music). I couldn’t stop laughing, because i don’t remember much spanish – the play by play went something like this “blah blah blah ocho blah blah blah Bryant blah blah blah Shaquelle blah dos blah uno…”.
One morning, while pulling out of a gas station somewhere in Wyoming – a guy had a sign near the gas station that said “need money for gas to get home”. He was an old guy with a grey ponytail, but looked honest to me for whatever reason. So I gave him some cash, leaning through my passenger window. He looked me straight in the eye, his clear blue eyes staring out from his tan, but sunburnt face, shook my hand through the window, and said “god bless you son.” I thought he was going to cry. I guess when those situations are real, and you’re stuck somewhere and need the help of strangers, it’s pretty fucking hard to stand on a corner and beg for help… regardless of how you got there. I won’t forget that face for a long time.
I realized (again) how big the U.S. is. Lots of empty, dry, barren (useless) space. There isn’t enough water for all this land, is really the problem. I kept thinking about all of the dams that shift water from here and there, and how we’ve messed up the natural water table, using more water than gets replenished on it’s own. I think the west (California/Nevada/Arizona) is going to have some real water problems in the next 30 years – we’re still using 50 year old frontier philosophies that somehow there is always more natural resource for us to use… but there ain’t. Driving through helped me to think about that – there just isn’t that much water. Parts of Idaho and Wyoming were so empty I wondered how cheap it would be to buy a 100 acre ranch and never see anyone again. (Are neighbors really neighbors if they are 10 miles away?).. but then I wondered how much I’d have to pay to get water…
The curse of Walmart – a few highway towns have been devastated by Walmart. Instead of a bunch of stores and shops by the side of the road, there is now only a big ass Walmart, a gas station, and a bunch of chain fast food places. You can still see the old independent stores sitting in vacant strip malls not far from where the wall mart is – all soaped up windows and for rent signs. In a few cases, I could see the Walmart from miles away – looked like a factory over the hill. There’s something creepy about miles of empty landscape, and then a big grey Walmart sitting in the middle of nowhere.
Custer’s last stand was interesting . I read up on the history in the visitors center before I walked up the hill where all the action happened. It’s a good story, since it reveals a lot about how messed up American policy was regarding the Indians – Custer was an arrogant idiot, but his mission was directed by the government as an escalation against the Lakota. They didn’t know that the Lakota were in such large numbers, and were pissed off about the last dozen treaties that the US had broken. I learned that the battle, the despite the comical outcome, was used as propaganda for the US to escalate engagement against the Indians.. that somehow despite the fact that Custer attacked the Indians, and that they were defending themselves, that it was a savage massacre. In reality the battle lasted less than an afternoon, the numbers being so lopsided, and Custer so unprepared. The site is easy to understand – a hill in the center of a long set of sloping smaller valleys and hills.. it’s easy to imagine how Custer and his 200 men ended up there, and how the Indians managed to circle and prevent escape. Anyway – an interesting story, and a powerful place – very easy to visualize what took place there. (Also, it’s really easy to get to – a perfect American car road stop. It’s about 10 minutes from the highway, and it’s a 5 minute walk from the parking lot to the little big horn).
I stopped 3 times, in the middle of nowhere, when there were no cars around and when I was on a beautiful hill or on the side of a mountain with an awesome view in the middle of a beautiful day. I got out of the car, stood up on the biggest rock I could find, and screamed at the top of my lungs; “WooHOO!”. Never felt better. I highly recommend this.
On the last stretch of I90 near Seattle, both leaving and coming home, I saw Striker convoys on the highway, presumably on training missions before heading out to Iraq (There’s a major fort in Washington, I forget the name). I took some pictures of them (kids: don’t drive and take photos at the same time, you end up doing badly at both). The soldiers were cool: they waved, smiled, and even saluted me as I drove past. They were crammed in on the tops and sides of the Striker (basically a big armored van, with super-sized wheels, and tons of anti-missile armor on the outside), and some were manning machine guns.
The Bozeman inn, in Bozeman, MT, was a great cheap place to stay. The best western told me their last room was $119, and that I’d have no luck elsewhere… I went across the way to the Bozeman, and got a sweet room for $60 (I think the reception lady liked me – she only charged me a single price, for their double rooms which usually cost $85). Had great food in the restaurant while watching the finals, and got a swim in their heated outdoor pool at 7am before heading for home. I think they allow pets too.
The book is going well. Writing this much all at once is very hard – Frankly, there’s just no one to blame for things 🙂 So I can’t say it’s been easy or fun all of the time – However, I am enjoying it,and it feels right, and I’m going to write another one when this one is finished – I’m making my dates, and I’m about halfway through the first draft. Words of encouragement appreciated, or just yell “WooHOO” at me next time we talk.
Struggling all day to write. Little bits of nothing.
It feels like I’m reaching into a bag looking for big muffins or apples, and find only tiny old stinky crumbs that I don’t even want to touch. I’m quite positive I put some real bits of food in there, some nice chunky meaty things to eat, but all I can find is the bottom of the bag, and it’s not pleasant to touch.
I’m on schedule. At around the half way mark. Part of my schedule was to take a week or so off and hit the road – driving down to visit Chris in Denver. 1450 miles – doing it in 3 days. Longest solo road trip I’ve ever done. Not planning on writing while traveling, except in this journal. Trying not to think about project management for awhile.
Sheer will mf. One large primal scream later, I feel much better. Trying the chin up thing – when stuck, do a set of chin-ups. And the screaming thing. And the guitar thing. And any other thing I can think of to shake off feeling stuck. Any other thing to keep my but in the chair, and my mind stringing words together (and not wandering the net).
Have to admit, I can’t tell if any of these tricks really makes a difference at all. What works one day doesn’t often work the next, or at least not in the same way, and I half wonder, if when I do feel better, if the change had anything at all to do with what I did.
The timeline is 7 months. 6 to write a first draft, one to handle revisions. We’ll set up a yahoo group or something for a small group of tech reviewers to give feedback on individual chapters. Feels good. Doable. Based on how long it took to write the sample chapters 6 months, 26 weeks, seems probable, not just possible.
Outline has 16 chapters and since I’ve thought i’ve them chrononically, that’s the way I’m going to write them. I have a head start on chapters 1-3. For the rest it’s just my notes.
So far it’s the daily schedule that seems to matter. I show up, I work. I show up, I work. I try not to think about how I’m feeling or whether I’m in the right mood, and just put ass to chair. When I really
Contract was signed earlier this week. Second publisher was interested but wasn’t as fast as O’Reilly. I’m now a signed writer with a book contract.
Got responses back the same day on the PM proposal. Both are tech book publishers and accepted submissions via email – and responded via email. Didn’t hear from the second publisher for a few days, but they were also very interested. WooHoo! Took 6 months to get here, but I’m talking to publishers about a book.
Ran to the library and read up on contracts and negotation. Didn’t write a lick all day – too excited to stay in the chair. Did some editing later on, but my rhythm was way off – hard to concentrate. Feel like a rooke that got to first base for the first time.
You think everyone is watching you, but really you’re just another shmoe standing on the bag.
Finished revising the PM book proposal over the weekend. New Riders, and another publisher weren’t interested (probably rightfully so, as it wasn’t quite their kind of book), but were helpful, and perhaps more useful, were quick in responding.
Sent the updated proposal to two publishers this morning. The draft chapters are close, but not finished yet – but given how long the response time tends to be (so far it’s been weeks to months), I’ll have them ready should someone want them.
With several chapters of the London book in the bag, and proposals out there, I’ve decided to switch gears and focus on the PM book. Until I find an interested publisher, as an unpublished author with an empty bookshelf, I want to keep spawning new projects and get them to the greenlight stage. I’ll keep doing this until I either have 4 or 5 proposal engaged projects, or I have a signed contract for a book that I’ll finish this year.
Mailed out the London book proposal to several publishers. Dropped them off in the drive thru mailbox. Heard them thud at the bottom, and thought of a wastebasket.
Got the proposal for EPM (working title “The education of a project manager”) finished on Wednesday, and sent it to New riders. Haven’t heard a peep. Spend the rest of the week on the London proposal, which needed more work. Yesterday I finally picked up a copy of Writers Market, continuing to learn about how all this works. Tons of sources on publishing that all seem to say similiarly distressing things. This is clearly uphill.
When I put together my 2004 plan, and listed my book ideas, a book on my experiences as a program manager was high on the list. Two reasons:
1) I was afraid I’d forget all that I’d learned in a year or two, or wouldn’t be able to write about it with an accurate perspective anymore if I waited too long
2) From everything I’ve learned about publishing, writing about something you have 10 years of experience with helps a ton in landing a proposal.
So I’ve been kicking around an outline, and today spent part of the day rolling together something like a book. I had a list of 35 chapter ideas, and got it down to 18. Almost book sized. I reused an aborted essay as the start for chapter one.
Just finished Chapter 4. Wrote a total of 10000 words, but the current version is only about 5000 long. This ratio is typical. Usually when I finish an essay, or a chapter, I’ll have a pile of fragments, stray pargagraphs, about equal in length to the essay itself. This doesn’t include fragments that I wrote, and deleted, which is probably signifigant. This only counts the fragments that I chose to keep around in case i needed them later.
There is a shape to these chapters now – I know how to write these kinds of essays now, and I can see the whole thing as a book. After Frank and I agreed that we had two different books here, one focused on writing with supporting pictures, and one focused on pictures with supporting writing, the writing has been easier. I’m focusing on the first, he on the later. The path is clear.
Draft of the book proposal is together. I read several books on writing these things, and went back to look at the ui design book proposal I wrote in ’99 (which was rejected). It’s in good shape. Once the draft chapters are together We’re ready to go.
The daily rhythm is better now. I get up – I write. When I get stuck, I run or walk the dog. Something physical. When start to get lightheaded, I eat. Repeat. When things are going well, perhaps one session in three, I can go for several hours. More often it’s tough going, and I can only go a half hour or so before I need to do something else. Playing guitar is a great 5 minute break – I grab the guitar from it’s stand just an arms length away, belt out a tune or two, and I always feel better. Singing songs while playing guitar gets stuff out – and it relaxes the whole creative process for me. On tought days I’ll keep the guitar in my lap, since I can’t get very far without wanting to get back to something that feels good.
This is my pattern every day – Saturday, Sunday, holidays. I write every day. If I can’t write about London, I write about something else. If I don’t want to write, I have to at least write something about not wanting to write.
I’m working on chapter 3, and it’s been slow. Pulling teeth. Not fun. I get little ideas, and run with them, but they usually amount to stillborn paragraphs and suicidal sentences (successfully suicidal). I also have pathetic phrasing, messy metaphors, and goofy grammar. Usually I go through this phase for an essay or for a chapter, but it doesn’t take this long. Usually after 3 or 4 hours I have a decent pile of ideas, and some of them start to stick together. Hasn’t happened yet. I have at least 4 near-paragraphs that are all only suitable as opening paragraphs. None of them currently work.
Showed a first draft of chapter one to Frank and Jill – lots of questions and comments. The hardest part of feedback on drafts is that you have to listen to commentary on things you know are problematic, but haven’t fixed yet (or don’t know how to fix), but you have to listen to it anyway as if their points are an act of discovery. No way around it – it’s part of what makes writing fun! Yay!
The truth I think is that when feedback about work hurts, something is being said that you know is true, but you (ok, I) haven’t dealt with yet. Or haven’t understood yet, or simply don’t want to deal with. The only thing I need is more persistence – as they say, rewriting is writing.
The plan I want to have, the daily plan, is something like this:
9:00am – get up. Run or lift.
10:00am – work on primary writing project.
12:00am – break for lunch
1:00pm – work on primary writing project
4:00pm – go outside, go for a walk, get some exercise
7:00-9:00 – write or read
Here’s what I did today:
10:00am – Jill woke up me, told me she’s going to work
10:01am – thought about the possibility of writing
10:02am – went back to sleep
11:30am – woke up
12:35pm – walked butch, and thought about writing while I walked him
12:45pm – Realized the power is still out. Went outside to get wood to start a fire in the fireplace.
12:55pm – sat by fire. Enjoyed the warmth.
1:00pm – Fell asleep on floor by the fireplace.
2:30pm – Wrote this entry.
