The Best of All Possible Worlds

When I first became a magazine editor in 1972, I read everything that came across my desk. Some of it was OK; some of it was terrible. On rare occasion, I would read something heart-stoppingly good. The first time that happened, I was reading an article by a writer and photographer named Bob La Rouche. It began this way: “The man, and the mountain. The mountain is Dhaulahiri … in Nepal. It is majestic implacable, inanimate, and a killer.” It could have been yesterday, but in fact it was 32 years ago. I still remember how I felt that day. Stunned, I think is the word. I had chills. I read the whole article, then, reached for the phone to call Bob La Rouche and tell him I thought what he had written was wonderful.

Now, I’m teaching writing — one six-week class a semester in continuing education, through the community college system. I wrote a workbook to help me do a better job. It was good but not great, so, I updated it. Then, I updated it again and again. It’s now in its fifth edition and 120 pages long. I’ve taught the same class — Writing, Publishing, & Promoting Your Nonfiction Book — for five or six years at different schools. In each class there is at least one special person who has talent and who might actually write a book. When I read something that person has written, I react as I did all those years ago. I read the whole thing, whatever it is. I barely breathe. I get chills. Then, I reach for the phone.

Once upon a time, a writing teacher told me I had talent and should keep writing. I took those words to heart. In fact, I built my life around them. It is beyond joy to say them to another person, especially one who may not know it yet. I had that experience recently when a former student read one of her essays to me. I just had it again when I got an e-mail with chapter summaries for a book one of a current student is planning. Maybe I’m no longer stunned, as I was the first time. But I certainly am moved and touched and impressed and just plain wowed. Every time.

A few years ago, when I was in a fast-track class for wannabe professional speakers and those who served them, we were asked to identify our vision. What did we do, or if we weren’t doing it yet, what did we want to do? I wrote, “Help writers write,” though, at the time, I had no idea how I was going to do it. I had written a book on freelancing, which hadn’t done well due to lack of any discernible marketing. I wasn’t yet a speaker and, it turned out, probably never would be. I wasn’t teaching yet. I was trying to reinvent myself but discovered that, in my case, that was going to take years.

Since then, I have created my program, written the workbook, taught classes, ghostwritten three books for other people, and designed a new website devoted to, of all things, helping writers write. “Do what you love; the money will follow,” they say. OK, I’m doing it, I’m earning a living at it, and I'm loving it. I think that is the best of all possible worlds.