As a guy who not only writes for a living but also judges other people’s writing for that same living, I’m a sucker for tip lists from famous writers. They always make it seem so simple.

Which, in fact, writing is. Simple. If only we “writers” would get out of our own way and stop trying so hard.

Here, from one of my new favorite websites (Brainpickings.org) and Tweeters (Maria Popova, the genius brainpicker herself) comes noted author Neil Gaiman’s 8 Rules of Writing:

1. Write

2. Put one word after another. Find the right word, put it down.

3. Finish what you’re writing. Whatever you have to do to finish it, finish it.

4. Put it aside. Read it pretending you’ve never read it before. Show it to friends whose opinion you respect and who like the kind of thing that this is.

5. Remember: when people tell you something’s wrong or doesn’t work for them, they are almost always right. When they tell you exactly what they think is wrong and how to fix it, they are almost always wrong.

6. Fix it. Remember that, sooner or later, before it ever reaches perfection, you will have to let it go and move on and start to write the next thing. Perfection is like chasing the horizon. Keep moving.

7. Laugh at your own jokes.

8. The main rule of writing is that if you do it with enough assurance and confidence, you’re allowed to do whatever you like. (That may be a rule for life as well as for writing. But it’s definitely true for writing.) So write your story as it needs to be written. Write it ­honestly, and tell it as best you can. I’m not sure that there are any other rules. Not ones that matter.

I went to my daughter’s middle-school open house the other night and learned about something I probably should have already known. (Or, more likely, I had been taught this at some point and promptly forgot it.)

It’s a paper called “Describing 16 Habits of Mind” by Arthur L. Costa, Ed.D., and Bena Kallick, Ph.D., and it’s a highly recommended read. The paper describes how we can best use our brainpower to solve problems, questions, tasks, etc.

The 16 habits of mind are:

• Persisting

• Thinking and communicating with clarity and precision

• Managing impulsivity

• Gathering data through all senses

• Listening with understanding and empathy

• Creating, imagining, innovating

• Thinking flexibly

• Responding with wonderment and awe

• Thinking about thinking (metacognition)

• Taking responsible risks

• Striving for accuracy

• Finding humor

• Questioning and posing problems

• Thinking interdependently

• Applying past knowledge to new situations

• Remaining open to continuous learning

 Google and ye shall find the complete paper. It’s worth your time.

good:

As we remember this day, let’s continue to look forward to the progress of tomorrow.

33 photos on the progress of One World Trade Center via The Atlantic

occasional-traveller:

My dad is awesome.

I agree.

Scouting seeds success. Check out this tale from one of the founders of our favorite online digital-photography course, Digital 1 to 1:

digital1to1:

A Scout is…

Trustworthy

Loyal

Helpful

Friendly

Courteous

Kind

Obedient

Cheerful

Thrifty

Brave

Clean

Reverent

I served as a Boy Scout until I moved away from the Bronx, NYC and took my last year of high school in Yorktown Heights, NY.  A suburb in the county of Westchester one- hour north of the Bronx.  For the first time in High School, there were girls. However I just say I was a Boy Scout, until I turned 18.

I made it to LIFE with 32 Merit Badges, two religious medals, Leadership Corps, Patrol Leader, Scribe and finally when as a scout FIRST CLASS, 9 weeks at summer camp, as a counselor in training or CIT. This is how a Bronx scout went to achieve LIFE.

Trustworthy is the first of twelve laws taught to me, and one to this day that defines me.  I learned to trust one’s direction upon walking a trail I never walked before. Or to rely on another to carry my weight when I could no longer. This law kept its meaning and memory as I grew from a scout into a professional photographer.  As a photographer, I’ve learned to trust my ideas and to trust those I professionally needed to complete these ideas.  I found a team I knew I could trust, because I knew how.

That trust grew into loyalty, the second law, to learning what a scout meant.  Photography is a career one must find true within themselves and to become loyal to that truth, not only within oneself, but also to those, in front of their camera.  Loyalty is a part of creativity, but only when you gain trust.

Helpful became easy as a scout.  Helpful found its way with determination to become aware of those in need, this was a given without even knowing the laws.  Yet later on in my career, helpful to those who ask, meant taking time away from something else.  But whether that help was to help another understand ways to take a better picture, or to be available to someone I’ve never met, I’ve kept true as a scout.

Friendly was not so easy to maintain as one’s hair was mangled with burrs, during a camping trips initiation. Yet scouting meant working together no matter the issue.  In the end, burrs or not, friendly existed.  Friendly is community.  I never knew the true essence of the community merit badges, until later on in life.  It came so natural to say hello and to talk to strangers.  I’ve made quite a few acquaintances this way and some true friends.   But as a photographer, friendly is key. Friendly means to say, “Smile for the camera.”

Courteous is the predecessor to friendly.  Courteous as a scout meant to respect those around you and to respect the few who lead you.  It taught me to allow others to have a chance to be heard, before making judgment, or protecting another from a situation of un-easiness.  It meant to offer social peace, or to allow passage within conversation. As an adult well beyond my scouting years, courteous has shown me that life can be much easier when discussing one’s ideas on how to accomplish a project.  Courteous offered a comfort to others creativity and for others to witness with example. 

But being Kind taught me as a scout that courteous was just a mannerism; an act of kindness.  Kind means to be thoughtful at all times and to prepare for harder times.  Kind gave a scout a reason to wear the uniform; it embodied the very law. Photography can be cruel in how it can never show anything but the truth.  A picture does not alter itself during the moment of capture.  It stays true from the instant you see it, to the moment it becomes a binary code sitting within an SD card.  Only if we alter this image later on, can we bend or even break the truth.  But kindness can let one enhance truth rather then destroy it.  Yes most images today are retouched and even completely altered by someone or some else.  But kind as a photographer lies in the time when one can either post or not post an image that may harm another.  Or not to record a scene as one is in need, but to put down the camera and offer a hand.  There is a fine line to the art of truth, and being true as a scout.  Kind as a photographer sometimes means to know when not to shoot.

Obedience was not one of my best traits and I suppose there can be many others like myself when it came to this scout law.  Perhaps it was that my scouting years were embedded on concrete in the Bronx.  Merit badges that had anything to do with Nature were completely held within a different box, in my head.   But to be obedient as a scout kept the troop together.  Laughter often shifted from one to another while trying to stand still or keeping quite during taps, but with one look from a scoutmaster, obedience took a very quick hold. I’m not sure how I was taught obedience, since so many adults had a hand in it.  However an obedient scout knew when to stop laughing or not to continue the joke. In photography there is obedience within the craft.  It comes in the continued quest to make a better picture and to better one’s techniques.  Knowledge found its way to me through obedience because I obeyed by own laws to how I wanted to become a professional photographer.  Without it, a destination can fade.  And even a visual destination fades if one does not skillfully find solutions to a problem of an image to produce; when being hired to do so. 

Cheerful as a scout, to me, meant spirit. Keeping up a team’s spirit brought a sense of closeness, a sense of hope to others.  It made the troop work well and without delay. It was a willingness to become part of something outside you and to offer brightness when things felt dark. Cheerful found its way into many of my images during the 25 plus years shooting as a professional.  Cheerful is photography, because without it, it offers nothing to see later on, and keeps as a negative.  Cheerful develops; it shows us more of who we are and brings out our true colors and tones. It gives imagery meaning by becoming enlarged with in us.

Thrifty seems obvious but as a scout it meant knowing how little to take with you.  Surviving with only a few items and perhaps little food, thrifty was a special tool you could not see, like a pocketknife, but you knew it was there.  It was like you could easily find an answer without thinking too hard because as a scout you had choices. This ideal did not change much as I found myself building all kinds of lighting accessories or finding ways to accomplish an idea with simplicity, during a shoot.  It also became a way to keep things easy.  Not all the time did thrifty work, there are times when being thrifty had to be kept as a special skill or tool.  But thrifty also means to let others work by your side, allowing them to share their ideas and for me to incorporate them into mine.

Being brave perhaps meant to take a dare.  But as scouts or rather as a scout, brave was holding out for the first time alone in the woods, without a tent and only with one pocketknife.  Wilderness Survival was to be brave, yet it was not written within the requirements of the merit badge or the scout manual.  I slept alone under a misshapen shelter in the rain, thinking how the noise outside my sleeping bag had a thing for me. I’m sure the critter I imagined was more afraid of me then I of it, but nonetheless, it taught me being brave meant to understand fright.  And understanding the idea of what “not knowing” was, brave gave a push to the honor of sewing that badge onto my sash. But being brave as a photographer may mean to find yourself in the middle of harm while you’re holding a camera in your hands, or like I once photographed a park from atop a building with only an assistant keeping leverage with my legs while I bent over the side to take the shot.  Somehow brave become braver when a lens was in front of me. Yet stupid is not brave. Stupid is stupid and this does not prepare well.  As a professional one must know how to prepare and what to expect.  Brave is going into the heart of a problem with preparedness.  It also means this stays with you at all times.  Being prepared to act or to take action at a given moment is also being brave.  As a photographer, brave can also mean how you change from photographing landscapes to photographing people.  This very step alters how you approach your new ideas and taking the steps to learn something new.  A photographer must allow this openness of “not knowing”, when starting something different and knowing how to be brave within it, is in the scout in me.

Being a scout meant days without showers.  Being dirty was worn like a badge at times.  It painted the picture of accomplishment the first time one started a fire without matches. But being clean was more then just a bar of soap in an outdoor shower with only cold water.  Clean was honest, even true.  It meant that being a scout one had to know the freedom from lies or dishonesty.  Clean gave a scout a conscience to be good and to have time to respect the place one camped or slept or ate.  Clean is a scout law that goes deep into ones character and shows others how you shine. Clean as a photographer means to respect the tools of your profession.  Seems rightfully so, since you want things to last… remember thrifty is always there with you. But clean as a photographer also shows others how safe it is to be photographed by you.  It shows honesty and integrity to ones spirit and leads others with it. Think of how you may feel in front of a camera.  It changes how you take pictures because it brings out what you hide or may want to hide.  Photographs are true and if you’re in one, being honest in what you are and how you appear, will show.  So to be this “behind the camera” must hold true as well as a professional photographer.  Others will see you in as much detail, as you will of them, so being clean in heart and mind allows for openness to creation.  They will want to be photographed by you.

Finally to be reverent, the last scout law, the one that felt aloft in the treetops during the long summer nights staring up at the stars while at camp.  Reverence was something beyond a human being, like a place you were exalted by others.  It felt far away for me as a scout at times, but came to mean more as I advanced to a higher-ranking scout. It also showed me how to treat the land and to let it be, to nurture it and to protect.  This law was the way one looks back at the hard work, the teamwork, the projects and emergencies along the way; reverence showed me that I was not bigger then myself. Reverence as a photographer, keeps me in check with my ego.  Ego can play tricks on you, if you think that you are more important.  Keeping reverent allows you to respect and praise other’s works. Photographers show truths to others.  We keep a kind of code within ourselves knowing we have the ability to alter how one feels about themselves. We are witnesses to life and we should keep a particular reverence to our craft and our visions.  We may see things we hoped not to see, or be there to capture life itself in all its glory.  There are many reverent points to express within our images, but to keep reverent to myself is why I made photography a life’s path, and within the steps of achieving the rank of a LIFE scout.

I suppose achieving my goals, producing large budget shoots, knowing others trust me with their visual promotions etc, will not ever let me have the honor of becoming an Eagle scout, but I hope that within my service to the photographic community with my online educational site about photography I created with my partner; I have taken the steps to what it means to live as one.  But regardless of any honor or rank I have achieved as a Boy Scout, to live the laws as one, certainly did make a difference in my life and my achievements.

http://www.digital1to1.com/wp/ 

Heading to Philmont!

In a couple days I’ll be heading to Philmont Scout Ranch to complete a week-long Wood Badge leadership course. Big deal? It is. Philmont is an incredible place; once you have been there it gets in your blood.

Philmont Scout Ranch is the Boy Scouts of America’s largest national high-adventure base. It covers 137,000 acres - about 214 square miles - of rugged mountain wilderness in the Sangre de Cristo range of the Rocky Mountains in northern New Mexico.

Philmont has a unique history of ancient Native Americans who chipped petroglyphs into canyon walls, Spanish conquistadors who explored the Southwest long before the first colonists arrived on the Atlantic coast, the rugged breed of mountain man like Kit Carson who blazed trails across this land, the great land barons like Lucien Maxwell who built ranchos along the Santa Fe Trail, and miners, loggers, and cowboys. All these people left their mark on Philmont.

Read about the fascinating history of Philmont here.

Ever wonder what really goes on at the Boys’ Life offices? Finally, we peel back the curtain…

Sometimes, one of our contributors will go out on a story and — oops — become the story himself. Witness this wild weekend tale from contributing editor Johnny D. Boggs:

So, an outfitter I know down in southern New Mexico invites me to come down and ride some horses. He’s trying to put together a trail ride this fall that combines history with hard riding. Says I might enjoy seeing what all it takes to get one of these rides (across ranches, state, federal lands, etc.), finding trails, campsites, etc.

The horse he picked out for me is the 5-year-old palomino mare his college-age daughter rides. “She’s never gotten any rider in trouble,” he says.

I mount Honey. What a sweet name for a sweet horse.

Have Wally, the organizer, hand me my camera. I’ve learned from experience NOT to mount a horse with a camera around my shoulder (camera swings around, pops horse in neck, horse bucks me off.) Good. I’m ready to ride. Haven’t even put my gloves on.

Then Honey starts bucking. I’m with her for about 3 jumps. Then she starts to fall. At which point I decide it’s time to cut my losses. Kick free of the stirrups, and as she goes to the left, I go off on the right. Caught between my ribs and the ground is my camera, and I hit hard.

Now, my concern at this time is: That horse might roll over on you. So I’m trying to get up and out of Honey’s way. I don’t make it far. Honey goes up on the other side. I decide to stand, then realize maybe I’ll just lie here for like … forever.

There’s a saying an old cowboy artist once told me when I was interviewing him after he’d busted several bones in a horse wreck: “Never been hurt, never been horseback.”

Wally comes over. “Your camera didn’t make it.”

I sit up. I don’t think I’ve broken any ribs. I stand. Wally and the rancher who wants to put on this ride, check my ribs. We get ready again. I remount Honey, ride her around, and no problems. Take my camera, put on my gloves, and we ride. Then Wally rides back to the trailer and I go with a pal, Chris, to ride down the canyon and meet Wally and the trailer at the bottom of the canyon.

And all is well. Until the trail ends. Then we have to pick our way through trees, over rocks, finding the trail again, losing it, finding other paths. Up, down. Horses stumbling. Every now and then, Chris will dismount, walk under low branches, lead his horse down a path or up some deer trail. By this time, my ribs are hurting really bad. And I soon realize: If I climb out of this saddle, I’m not gonna be able to get back on. Good thing I’m wearing hat and chaps. And gloves. I become a contortionist dodging underneath low branches.

Eventually, we meet up with Wally, who has parked and ridden out to make sure we aren’t dead. Ride back to the trailer. I slowly get off. They have me take off my shirt, run fingers over ribs again. I get into the truck, we drive to the nearest store for some Aleve. I drink some water. Goes down the wrong way. I start to cough.

Wally jokes: “Johnny, you ain’t coughin’ up blood, are you?”

When I check, Wally and Chris exchange serious glances. Then look back at me and say, “Johnny, why don’t we swing around and head to the ER in Ruidoso. Have you checked out.”

Says I: “That might be a good idea.”

We stop at the store, drive back to Ruidoso. Head into the ER.

Nurse: “When did this happen?”

Me: “Oh, about 11 a.m.”

Nurse looks at clock. It’s 2:30. “AND YOU’RE JUST GETTING HERE?”

Me: “Well, I had to ride out of the canyon.”

Next nurse checks ribs. “Yes,” she says, “I can see the camera.” Touches rib. “There’s the lens.” Another touch. “There’s the body.”

Doctor checks me out. I go have X-rays. Sit back. Doctor comes in. “Two fractures,” he says. “Stay off horses for a while.” Prescribes pain killer. Pick them up on the way out of town.

We ride back to camp. Wally says: “You know what this tells me about Johnny? That he’s one tough, stubborn son of a ——.”

I laugh. Which hurts like the devil. I mean, the things I’ll do to get a story.

‘In Our Training, The Good Guy Never Loses’

We “trained” with the Federal Air Marshal Service for a day. Here’s a sneak preview of our feature on the FAMS that will run in the October BL:

At 35,000 feet in the air, it’s all on you.

Something goes wrong, you’re the guy they turn to.

There’s no backup. There’s no support.

Something goes wrong, you’re responsible for getting the plane and its passengers safely back on solid ground.

You’re a Federal Air Marshal. There’s no room for error.

And it’s all on you.