Cats and San Francisco

Day 2 at the Cat Writers International Conference.  Things are going swimmingly but I can tell I'm ready to come home.  I only attended 1 out of 4 panel discussions today.  The first panel involved feline medical issues, which I don't write about. The second was similar.  I did attend the program on Shelter Issues and learned some interesting information.  For example,  consider the terms "kill" and "no-kill" shelters. When anyone hears the two terms of course they think, "Obviously no kill is better."  But what the SF shelter people pointed out is they are "Open Admission."  They take ANY animal at any time for any reason.  So they're getting dogs 1/2 crushed by semi's, feral cats, blind animals, and a host of others. They do the best they can and then some but can still receive negative press because they are not at "no-kill" shelter.

There was also discussion on what makes an animal "adoptable."  A lot of shelters categorize animals as "adoptable" or "unadoptable," but those terms are misleading.  It depends on the person. What is unadoptable to one person may be perfectly acceptable to another and we're doing animals a disservice to continue these categories.  So, lots of good information like that.

Then I missed the agent/editor panel which was unfortunate, as I would have liked to attend.  But the CFA (Cat Fanciers Association) International Cat Show is two miles away and a group of us had to leave early to take a cab there for our book signing.

I sold 4 books (so far, the conference is still going on) but that's far, far less than what I'd hoped to sell. I think it was a matter of cat material overload for attendees.  I market my book as a great gift book, especially with the holidays fast approaching.  But the Cat Show had cat toys, cat carriers, cat food, cat tree ornaments, cat socks, cat clothes, cat art, cat jewelry, cat sculpture, cat stationary, and a million other cat related products.  And like me, all vendors are of course thinking, "Hey, a cat show.  What a great place to sell my stuff!" But put all under one roof and it just becomes too much.  I think my book would do much better in a venue where maybe it was mainly dog or bird items (or whatever) and I was one of the few cat products.

I did spend some time with Dan Poynter, self-publishing and marketing guru, and got some GREAT advice for converting my books to audio at a highly discounted price.  So I'll act on that once I return home.

I was also fortunate enough to share a breakfast table with Shirley Rousseau Murphy, a well-known mystery writer of the Joe Grey, PI, feline mystery series.  I confessed to Shirley that I never had an interest in her books until I had to read one of them because I was a novel judge for this years award. And I LOVED it.  Great plot, great fun, and a very entertaining read.  I'm delighted to find a new series I enjoy AND have the added bonus of knowing the author behind the words.  Getting up early (we were two of the few people in the dining room at 6:30 AM) pays.

And finally, my workshop.  Huge success.  I'm extremely pleased with how it went.  As always, I managed to leave out a few key points, but such is the public speaking life.  I'd say about 40-50 people attended.  My ice-breaker, People Bingo, was fun (I had people doing jumping jacks and singing "I'm a little teapot,") and got us up out of our seats and talking.  This group can always be counted on for interaction, which makes my part much more relaxed.  One long-term exercise ended up a bust, which I'll try to remember to discuss in a later post.  I've got a 3 hour layover in Atlanta tomorrow and will need something to do to fill the time!

And that's it for now.  The awards banquet is tonight.  I won 2  "Certificate of Excellence" Awards for my humor stories so I'm actually competing against myself (and a few others) in the humor category for a Muse Medallion--the highest award bestowed by the organization.  (Blair's comment was "Gee, since you have two chances of winning you'll feel really, really bad if you lose, huh?" Thanks for the support, honey.) Winning a muse medallion would be nice because both the stories are in Lessons In Stalking and I could order award stickers to put on the cover--something which is supposed to increase book sales. 

Fingers crossed!

The Guessing Game

When I speak on interviewing to high school kids or to the displaced homemakers at the local Women's Resource Center where I volunteer, I typically start with an exercise that goes like this:

I'll come to the front of the room and before I say anything about the workshop or why I'm there I ask everyone to take a out pen and paper. I ask them to write down their answers to the following questions, being sure to tell them that they will NOT have to share their answers with me, so please be honest.  I ask them:

• How old do you think I am?
• Do you think I am homosexual or heterosexual?
• Do you think I am single, married, living with someone, separated, divorced, or widowed?
• Do I have kids?  If so, how many and what do you think are their ages?
• What's the highest level of education you think I've obtained?
• What religious group, if any, do you think I'm a member of?
• How much money do you think I earn?
• What's my ethnic background?
• What part of the country was I raised in?
• Have I travelled outside the U.S.?
• Do I own my own home?
• Do I have a car?
• Do I speak a second language?  If so, what?
• Then I ask them if, from the two minutes I've been standing in front of them they think that a) I have worthwhile advice to impart to them and b) if they think they'll enjoy class with me.

Then I'll ask the class if they think they got every question right.  The answer is always no.  But, I emphasize, from pretty much just looking at me and listening to me say a few sentences, they hold these guesses--or opinions--on me on these various topics.  Heads nod.

"Is this fair?" I'll ask the group. 

"No!" is the answer. 

"But is this reality and something you have to deal with?" I ask. 

"Yes," they say. 

"Yes," I affirm, and we go from there.

The point is to show how snap judgements are made by people, and then we cover ways to overcome some of those judgements (through non-verbal body language, eye contact, dress for success, etc.).  The question I usually trip people up on is the kids question.  Most people answer that they think I have kids and look surprised when I tell them I don't.

What has become "disturbing" about this exercise is the age question.  I'll always give them my age to see who came close and historically people would always underestimate my age.  So when I was 28, people would guess 23.  Or when I was 32, people would guess 26.

When I spoke to the high school kids on Tuesday and said, "I'm 35," most raised their hands, cheering that they got it right.  One girl sighed, "Oh, I was close.  I guessed 36." 

Regardless of my drama (I came home and took two Dove Dark Chocolate nuggets to ease the pain), it's a good exercise to do.  I encourage people in my classes to start paying attention to people in restaurants, airports, malls, or wherever, and see if they can recognize some of the snap judgements they're making just based on appearance.  And then I ask them to remember this exercise and that not everything is as it appears.

We're all guilty of making inferences, but it's helpful to at least have some conscious recognition that you're doing it.

Speaking to High School Kids

It's 12 pm and I'm sitting in a Panera, killing time before my speech at 1:15  to a group of high school students. The subject I was given to speak on is "public speaking," which is pretty broad.  I'm going to tailor it to speaking in public for interviews and do in class examples of how kids can "control" what others think of them by mastering their body language and eye contact.  I spoke to this age group last year on networking and didn't think I did a very good job--everyone looked very bored as I spoke--but was told later I was voted one of the classes' favorite speakers.  That made me feel good.  Maybe chair slouching and crossed arms is actually high-school speak for "You Rock!"  (Or not...)

I'm teaching a magazine writing class this Saturday for which I've been prepping all week.  So far I'm up to 20 handouts per person.  The class size will run 15-20 people, so I've been giving my printer quite the workout.  I'm hoping there may be some sort of copying stipend available through the University. But if not, I'll just suck it up. I'd rather present needed information that people can take home versus worrying about reimbursement.

My class is 3 hours long and I can't decide if I have enough material to fill the hours, or if I'm trying to pack too much in. This is my first time teaching this particular workshop and it's hard to judge accurately until I've taught the class at least once.  Plus,  a lot depends on class interaction.  I try to encourage as much talking/questions/discussion as possible-- makes it more interesting than watching me yak for three hours.

Nothing much else going on.  E-mail didn't come back until early this morning but thank God, it's back. Blair is working all hours and the cats are still trying to hang out on the new bedding.  The floor people are coming Friday to install the heated floor and if I can get my general contractor to call me back and come in for taping and drywall work, all will be right with the world.

You Never Really Know What People Are Thinking...

I was reminded of this yesterday after having presented my two-hour workshop, "It's Not What You Say, It's How You Say It."  UNC-G does a great job of advertising the workshop and I had 15 people attend the 10:15 AM class on a Saturday morning--impressive.

I've been presenting this workshop for almost two years and it's intentionally geared toward what I call "occasional speakers," those individuals who may have to speak once or twice a year for work but who for the most part avoid giving speeches. 

In yesterday's class I had an attorney--someone who speaks in front of judges and juries on a regular basis.  He was interested in learning some persuasion techniques which I don't touch on a lot in this intro workshop.  So I was concerned my class wouldn't suit him. 

Watching him, I confirmed my suspicions.  He was bored.  Probably bummed there was no graceful way to exit the class without it being obvious.  He thought he'd wasted his money.  I saw him yawn.  Game over.

So no one could have been more surprised than me when he approached me after class and asked if I did one-on-one consulting. He has a big trial on his calendar and wants to be prepared for court.

Here is the lesson I took away from this: We may think we know what others are thinking/feeling, but we never really do.  Ironically, this is a point I touch on in my workshop.  The natural look of any audience member is almost always one of boredom or neutrality.  I warn my students not to let it throw them, yet I found myself jumping to conclusions about an audience member based on that look of neutrality.  And I know better.

It reminds me of a counseling session I did years ago at the Women's Resource Center.  I was new to Peer Counseling and listened as a woman 25 years my senior described losing her job, being forced out of her apartment, her husband left her, and her kids weren't speaking to her.  It was just disaster after disaster in her life.  She was very reticent and hard to pull information from.  I remember the session as very awkward and almost painful to sit through.  It was obvious she wasn't happy having to talk to me--this inexperienced girl who'd never had to go through anything close to what she was dealing with.  She didn't smile and seemed sullen the entire time. I was very disheartened after the session, thinking I had let the woman down and wondering if I was really suited for peer counseling.

Two months later I received a card in the mail from this woman.  She thanked me for our session and listening to her.  "Having someone sit beside me who cared gave me hope," she wrote.  She went on to say she had been motivated to re-examine her life after our session and had started making some changes.

Again, you could have knocked me over with a feather.  I left our session feeling I had done her more harm than good. Yet the experience had been positive for her.

The point is, we never know how we touch the lives of others.  Your smile to a tired check-out clerk may make their day.  Holding the door open for a person entering behind you may be the only nice thing a person does for them that day.

We don't have to know exactly how we affect every person in our lives.  It's enough to know we hold that potential. Which makes it all the more vital that we do reach out to others, treat everyone with respect, and look for the small, simple ways--like a smile or a wave to cut in front of us in traffic--that may improve someone else's day.