Writing: Friends on the Shelf

No matter how many writers like to claim theirs is a solitary vocation, I just don't buy it. None of us really writes on our own, and any writer or reporter worth her salt learns from instructors she probably hasn't even met. 

Specifically, it's those published writers, alive or dead, with a single book or a dozen, who inspire us with sentences that sing, paragraphs that leave us breathless and stories that stay planted in our souls and hearts and minds for years. They shape our craft. And they form our vision of what writing could—and should—be. 

From the Book Shelf: How a classic story still resonates for these times

 

"[I]n a year marked with the challenges of isolation and grief, Bridge to Terabithia is a worthy and much-needed companion."

Though you might not be able to find it on a map, Terabithia is as real a place as Narnia, Planet Uriel, or the Shire. It is a land, in fact, of equal force, where reluctant boys confront their fears and lonely girls become regal, a place where imagination is both currency and medicine even - or especially - for explorers travelling from the year 2020. 

Copy That: 4 Writing Clues for Catching (and Keeping) Readers

    Whether it’s a novel or a tweet, a script or an op ed, all writing deserves our best thinking and words. All the time. Sure, it’s hard work. But the pay off of catching—and keeping— readers is worth it. 

    Here are four writing clues to make your writing as compelling as it can be:

So I've Still been Writing

Yes, I'm still writing and keeping track of recent freelance work so far from 2020-2016. Book reviews, features and other links here:

Moving Up—and Down(under)

Our old website, LampPost Media has some dated issues. So right now it's hiding somewhere on the Internet.

No matter. Here I am in the land down under, living near in-laws and enjoying sunny, coat-less days, and journalism looks slightly different here. People who report the news here aren't reporters; they're "Journos". 

As expected, their coverage is full of the things that matter to Aussies right now: front page sports news, issues in private schools, gambling addictions and the complexities of justice for and with Indigenous peoples here. 

I haven't written to much about these stories (did cover gambling recently), but I have explored life down under to this 'foreigner' on my blog: A Sun Burnt Faith. Hope you'll come by and say "G'day!"

When Does A Blog Become An Archive?

This is an easy question: when I haven't posted in a year. And probably am not likely to soon because my journalism assignments in the U.S. have gone on a bit of a hiatus. (Alas, I've spent the past twelve months writing a bunch of stuff for cool organizations who now, um, kind of own those stories. That's okay too.)

So please forgive me, anyone who might have glanced at these pages; I'll be using this blog now simply to archive stories I've written for publication under my own byline. Or comments I can't help but make on some aspect of journalism—that aren't necessarily the opinions of said orgs.

More news and stories—and adventures—await. Thanks for checking in.

Oh, The Places a Poem Can Go!

Who says writing is always hard? Sometimes a story is simply a delight . . . to write. (That rhymed.)

This was one of those. Because it was about this heroic woman who lives—I learned—on the next block over but started this cool grass roots movement-thing to bring poetry into, well, whatever places that inspire her, making it a community celebration. And making the world undoubtedly a better place because of it! It was an honor—and a ton of fun—to interview her and write this story for North Shore Magazine's April arts issue.

You can read the article HERE.

Stories at the Corner Shop

I've always loved local businesses, the stories, the creativity, the heroism. And I don't mind saying so—in fact, in my local newspaper last month:

February 18, 2014 Column: Confessions of a small-business fanatic

Jo Kadlecek

The Salem News

It started with flowers. Roses really, the color of cherry tomatoes, delivered fresh from the truck to living rooms or offices throughout my neighborhood. Veldkamp Florist had been around, it seemed, since forever, and my mom always called them whenever we had to go to a funeral or an anniversary party. I went to school with a couple of Veldkamp kids, but I sort of felt sorry for them: They never could go out for the basketball team or attend the winter dances. Christmas and Valentine’s Day were just too important for florists. I guess those Veldkamp kids needed to help trim the roses.

Flowers turned to root beer. My friend’s mom owned and operated one of the last existing A & W Root Beer drive-ins in our city, and one summer in high school, I needed a job. So, I car-hopped. I took orders and poured root beer. I watched my friend’s mom flip burgers, scoop ice cream and count money at the end of every day, hoping to take home enough to pay her light bills after she paid us. It wasn’t easy work, but it was hers.

I followed my nose throughout college and a short career in public education, in and out of bakeries owned by three generations of Millers, pizza joints run by Italian immigrants, and beauty shops operated by Millie and Jessica and CarolAnn. I liked going into these small places; they were homey and real and familiar. I liked seeing family photos taped to the cash register or handwritten message boards outlining the day’s choices when I walked in. Read MORE

Super Bowl Crankiness

I love sports. But this big one is getting to me. Here's what I mean:

Millions of Americans will gather in their living rooms this coming Sunday to watch grown men hammer each other so hard they get concussions that can lead to brain damage or dementia or lots of other long term health problems.

While the game plays out, pimps will sell their sex slaves during the highest trafficking event in the year. (God help us.)

In between those thumping tackles, sometimes exciting touchdowns and who knows what else, advertisers will have spent $4 million per commercial to entertain the masses, commercials that are often filled with damaging sexist messages that also feed the country's consumerism addiction. As fans watch, they cram into their mouths more junk food, sugar and beer than their doctor probably advises and which surely doesn't help already dangerous obesity rates. The good news is that the championship game does shed light on domestic violence incidents.

Sounds like a super tradition. Forgive my grumpiness.

Why My Christmas List Included Boycotting Amazon

For this year's Christmas gifts (and every one before), I didn't buy many things online. I tried to buy original stuff from people who actually made it or from small local businesses.  And I've made a list of my top five reasons I'll never buy from or support Amazon (that means even going to their web site), regardless of the season:

5. It used to sell only books (remember that?) at such a discount that it hurt local many small business booksellers and eventually drove some out of business. (When I do buy books, I do so from those brave local independent stores who are still serving their communities.)
4. It now thinks it needs to be a one-stop shopping online center, perpetuating the myth of 'convenience' as god, and again keeping folks from supporting their local economies.
3. Its founder (he who shall not be named) made so much money that he bought the Washington Post, and we need a big retail conglomerate to own a newspaper because . . ?
2. It's in the process of developing delivery drones. I guess those silly humans can't do it well enough.
1. It's out of control. Enough said.

When the Leaves Tell the Story

In the region where I live, there have been more than a few offices closed by the government shutdown. The recession has still meant folks I know are struggling to find meaningful work, and bills are just plain hard to pay. It's easy to miss the forest through the trees and lose perspective. Or something like that. 

The leaves around me, though, are vibrant reminders of, well, more. They tell a better story right now. So I'll let them here:

The End of the World (Trade Center)

It's hard to believe I wrote this 12 years ago, that morning and the next day. Still vivid. I'm grateful that the CT editor 'let' me report, reflect and process:

Dispatches from out of the dust

By Jo Kadlecek

9/11/01 11:30 am

Our city is bleeding. My phone has not stopped ringing. The news reports are horrifying. This is my backyard and I have to go, to try to get my head around it, to listen and respond. My bicycle will be the surest way to get 60 blocks from here. I ride.

Scores of people are walking north, heading north. A mass migration of broken people head north looking for safety.

Has this happened before?

Along the Hudson River, I ride my bicycle past a golfer who practices his putting; runners jog by, sirens and fire engines rush by. 

Women in power suits and no shoes walk north past workers who gather around truck radios listening for the latest updates on the attacks. Mobs of teenage students also stroll north, chatting as if nothing has happened. 

As if life in New York City is always chaotic and terrifying. Every other person is trying to talk with someone on a cell phone, trying to meet up with friends or find a colleague. 

Everyone is looking for someone as the smoke lingers over this southern end of the most powerful city in the world, but certainly not the most invincible. Not now.

People with suitcases walk up out of their hotels that were in the shadow of the now-blazing towers. I hear a tourist comment on the weather: "It's a nice day today, isn't it?"

Commuters walk in the hot September sun, stranded, numb, eager to get home. Home will never be the same.

In Honor of Tweets, Mrs. Ridley & All Coaches

According to FT writer Gillian Tett, this is
a team of future CEO's!

I've learned a lot since I started Tweeting. It's a reporter's digital form of breaking news. And the folks you follow really do lead you to some interesting stuff. Like this story on the lack of women sources in the New York Times front page stories. (Good work by two women journalism students!)

Or like this article I read first from a Tweet, then on the web site itself, and then as I re-read it when I posted it on Facebook. Columnist Gillian Tett writes in the Financial Times about the link between successful women and the sports they played as girls or in college. Oh Yeah!

Maybe because I'm co-authoring a novel right now that's celebrating women's friendships and successes with an athletic backdrop (think "The Help" meets "A League of Their Own") but Tett's story got me thinking—about the impact of sports on my own life. So I offer this short (but long for a blog) essay from my most recent memoir/book, "Woman Overboard: How Passion Saved My Life." Now go thank those coaches!

"Compassion's Call and the Hands I want to Hold" An Excerpt from Chapter 7 of Woman Overboard: 

Saints with day jobs have taught me over and over. Even when I didn’t know it at the time.

Every June, July and August of my high school years, I was a proud member of the Callahan Real Estate girl’s softball team of Wheat Ridge, Colorado. I’d been playing little league on other teams since I was in second grade and loved everything about it: the sun on my face, the snacks after games, the laughs with my friends. There was nothing like standing around a park in the summer, tossing a ball back and forth or watching a batter connect to a pitch every now and then, until the game was over and you sat around the bleachers drinking Pepsi or Mountain Dew, watching the next game. It was my kind of sport.

           

By teenage years, however, the watching had turned to serious competition and most of my friends turned to other fun. I decided to keep playing. Our high school didn’t yet offer sports like softball or soccer for girls (it was the early 1970s, after all,when Title IX was just born), so suburban recreational centers filled the gap during the summer months. They offered all kinds of leagues for all levels of play.

That’s when I told my parents I wanted to play for Callahan Real Estate. But by joining this particular team, they reminded me, it wouldn’t be easy. The players were all older, mostly juniors and seniors, and I was only a sophomore. They’d been playing together for a few years. I was coming in from another team. And while they already knew all their positions, I had merely stood wherever the coach put me. I hadn’t focused long enough to excel at any one spot.

I was ready to try. So they took a chance and sent me to the recreation center to register . . .

Bicycles, Birds, and Beliefs

I'm not sure there's anything sadder than a bike stuck in snow, days long gone, with no birds to watch or roads to explore. So I reckon that's where believing can certainly help to get you through such a big disappointment, or even tougher, more real issues.

In fact, here's my latest story in the July issue of New England Psychologist, "Study: Belief in God Aids Treatment."

From there, it might be fun to hop on some wheels and put some belief into action where ever you are. Can't remember having so much fun interviewing folks as I did for this story in the July issue of North Shore Magazine: Wings and Wheels. 

Happy Trails!

Stirring the Creative Juices

Some wise soul probably said once that distance from routine can aid the creative process. I agree. And am realizing that simple things—like a change of scenery or  a different room in your house—can help your writing. So I'm on a couch now in Denver, having just come back from a walk in a park with big glorious trees waving under the Colorado sun. Last month I was in two places Downunder, as my last post shows. Next week, back in Massachusetts.

All are good for getting the juices flowing, for observing new characters and thinking about fresh details. Each is a link to an idea and a story, and each conversation with fellow travelers feeds the process.

Reckon that's what couches are for. Or trees to walk past. Or beaches to stare at. So bon voyage and bon appetite—both really do nurture the road to inspiration, if we'll dare to slow down and pay attention.

Adventure Down Under

No postings for May means I was traveling—far. To Tasmania, Australia, first, then to Queensland. Words aren't as good as photos in this case so I'll let them speak instead:

Koonya, Tasmania, home of my dad and his wife, at sunset.

The view from their porch.

Black swans off of their beach.

Pelicans in Brisbane.

Noosa National Park (Queensland) where in-laws live
 only a few miles from this view. I suppose someone has to.

See? We really were there. Here's verification of our adventure
down under.

Justice, Mental Health and Following

Ah, the writing life. Working on stories for different publications means, well, you're working. Reporting, interviewing, writing, editing, it's all part of the process of telling the story. Which can mean, of course, neglecting to post those stories on your blog once you're sent them on to the editors and they've tweaked and published them.

So just to keep semi-current, here's a recent sampling of a few of the articles I've written lately:

Coverage for the Salem News of the Salem award ceremony of two men long committed to justice.

A story for New England Psychologist on the new congressional bill proposing funding for mental health first aid.

An article on following vs. leading for Duke's Faith and Leadership online magazine.

What's next? Biking and birding on Boston's North Shore for North Shore Magazine! Who knew so many cyclists were also avid bird-watchers?!

Watching Generation Next Get the Story

Yes, I've been missing from blog posts. But not missing in reporter action. In fact, since late January I've been walking alongside a few reporters from the next generation as they write interesting stories for the Gordon College News Service, an internship program where aspiring journalists partner with local newspapers to cover the community. Since January 2010, the GCNS has been sending stories to papers and news sites, and it's exiting to see a new cohort. Here they are with editors and reporters at the Salem News as we talked shop over pizza. (Thank you to the generous professionals who give so much time to these young reporters!)

Meet the 2013 spring GCNS Fellows: Alanah Percy, Stephanie Francis and Tala Strauss (pictured here second, third, fourth from left). Click here to read their bios.

Walking Past the Future, One Story at a Time

So I was walking my dog in the neighborhood a few weeks ago, past a cool and hip office on a street a few blocks away. As we walked by and I glanced in, I couldn't help but wonder what those folks were working on. A few days later, I was meeting with a friend for breakfast, talking about cool and hip office spaces. We literally got up from the table and hurried around the corner to that first office. That's when I discovered, well, the following story (that ran in today's Salem News). Curiosity sure can introduce you to some fascinating stuff, even in your own neighborhood . . .

December 26, 2012

Exploring the future from a corner in Beverly

Research firm's founder likes city's 'great vibe,' accessibility

By Jo KadlecekCorrespondent

The future has come to Beverly, and you can find it in the old taxi dispatch just around the corner from Cityside Diner.

The renovated street-level office on Knowlton Street now houses Latitude Labs, the newest venture for parent company Latitude, a global media and technology research company that has grown from a single employee when it began in 2001 to 16 and serves clients such as ESPN, The New York Times, BBC and Nickelodeon. Founded by CEO Steve Mushkin from a computer in the Beverly Public Library, Latitude’s headquarters now consists of four offices above the diner on Cabot Street. Its location in downtown Beverly is as important to Mushkin as the company’s global reach.

READ the rest of the story here:

When the Parade Comes Marching In

Of all the things that make a small town into a community, a parade tops the list. You see your neighbors, hear their kids' music and learn more about the small businesses that make up downtown. Yesterday, I covered my town's holiday parade for the local paper and discovered more of the spirit of the place. This is the fun stuff of local journalism!

November 26, 2012

'The spirit of Christmas'

Beverly celebrates 65th annual Holiday Parade

By Jo KadlecekCorrespondent

Ray Novack has never actually seen the Beverly Holiday Parade. As the former director of the Beverly High School marching band (he retired last year), Novack has marched in 35 consecutive parades. At yesterday’s 65th annual parade, he sat atop a silver Mustang convertible as the grand marshal, waving to the thousands of residents who lined Cabot, Elliott and Rantoul Streets, braving the chilly winds to welcome Beverly’s official start of the giving season.

“Usually we (the BHS marching band) are at the end of the parade,” Novack said. “This year, I’m at the beginning, the first time (in 35 years) I haven’t marched, so it’s nice to ride in such an esteemed place of honor. Maybe next year, I’ll actually watch it from the street.”

Novack was one of several hundred participants in this year’s parade, the biggest ever with 50 entries and floats, according to Wendy Kelley, vice president of the parade committee and assistant vice president of Salem Five Bank.

The Kora Shrine Log Rollers from Maine came again to drive their miniature log trucks and raise money for burn victims. The Girl and Boy Scouts were also on hand, along with librarians, firefighters, dance groups, Little Leaguers, Red Cross representatives, Momball team members, mayors and marching bands. Oh, and that guy with the white beard and red suit.  READ MORE.