Everything is Wrong Now

Blame it on DOGE, massive layoffs of humans, outsourcing overseas, or whatever you want, but everything is wrong now.

Today was the final straw.

I didn’t take to social media last week when I spent four hours on the phone with Century Link and Quantum Fiber (their sister company) and Century Link and Quantum Fiber and Century Link and Quantum Fiber. (All this to report a wire hanging over our neighbor’s driveway and leading to our house.) Finally Century Link bombarded me with texts telling me the technician was on their way, the technician was at my address, the technician was fixing the problem, and the ticket had been closed—all while my neighbor and I sat on our front porches and stared at the empty street and the still-dangling wire. No truck ever appeared. The following day, after more phone time during which Century Link transferred me to Quantum Fiber and they transferred me back to Century Link (repeat a few times) a truck showed up. A technician coiled up the drooping wire, reattached it to the pole, and drove away. This time there were no text messages from anyone.

I didn’t take to social media this week when the pod storage company texted me 20 times to ask me to confirm that we wanted the empty pod in our driveway picked up. Yes, yes, yes, C to confirm! The final text said that they’d emailed me the exact window of time when that pickup (requiring all our cars and the neighbors’ cars to be moved from the street) would occur. There was no email, of course. So I texted the pod company’s help number, which helpfully informed me I had no active pods rentals. So I went to the company’s site, clicked “Log in”—and got a 403 notice. We’re still hoping they will come take the damn pod away. Some day.

No, what has truly driven me to howl into the void of social media is the IRS. They sent a letter a few weeks ago saying that something was wrong with my 2023 return. They wouldn’t say what, but required that I upload to their site a form acknowledging that they were recomputing my 2023 return. What choice did I have? I signed the form, scanned it, and uploaded it.Today I got email from them saying there was a message for me at the IRS site. In case it was a scam, I clicked no links, but logged in to the IRS site. There I found the new message. It told me to ignore the previous letter because they had made an error, and to open or download the attached PDF to see and accept their new recomputation. I obediently downloaded the file. It turned out to have more than 45 alphanumeric characters in its name, and did not end in “pdf”. It wouldn’t open, and my file analysis software informed me it contained 0 bytes of information.

In the online account portal, I replied to the IRS message and requested a readable version of the form. I then printed out their message—which was good, because 10 minutes later their message, and my reply, had both vanished from my IRS account.

Perhaps they never existed? Maybe they’re stored in a pod in somebody’s driveway? Or maybe Quantum Fiber intercepted them and has routed them to Pete Hegseth’s phone.

“Yoga for Protesters”

The fury in me honors the fury in you. Oh, does it ever.

Originally published in The Protest Diaries from B Cubed Press, the short story “Yoga for Protesters: A Field Guide” appears in my new collection Patti 209: Fifteen Tales of the Very Near Futureavailable now.

“Yoga for Protesters” was inspired by my awesome yoga instructor, Susan Powter. Here’s one of the most challenging poses:

Pose to Protest Political Corruption

Place one mat in the hallway outside the politician’s office. Take turns with other constituents using the mat for regular yoga practices. It is fine to do any version of Hatha, Iyengar, Vinyasa, or Ashtanga. Be careful of the slippery environment. When the politician is under investigation or indictment, you can switch to Bikram (hot) yoga for the duration.

I’ll be demonstrating some yoga for protesters to kick off my June 6 reading at the Couth Buzzard bookstore in Seattle. Details here.

Let there be light (bulbs)

The new LED lightbulbs are amazing—a switch on the stem of the bulb lets you adjust them to select a visual “temperature” from icy cool (4000 Kelvin) to sunshine warm (2400 Kelvin). Choose from PAR LED (highly concentrated, narrow spotlight), R LED (older floodlight) to BR LED (newer, better floodlight) to control the way the room is lit. There’s also an ER LED bulb, which has a long neck to fit into deep fixtures. And an MR, with an extremely narrow beam.

diagram showing BR, PAR, and MR beam angles and bulb shapes. Credit: viribright.com

I was surprised to discover that some people (mostly interior designers) prefer PAR LEDs to the BR bulbs because they create dramatic beams of light focused on artwork and decor. Me, I’d prefer to get the whole room—especially a work area like a kitchen or a laundry room—well illuminated.

So what’s not to like about these new adjustable LEDs? Well, the fact that big box home improvement stores don’t have most of them in stock—certainly not the adjustable ones! These stores don’t even stock many fixtures these days—just samples, and then they tell you to go online to their websites to get the actual fixture. So much for weekend home repair projects!

Anyway, here’s your Viribright.com guide to LEDs so you’ll have a better experience than I did this past weekend. While Viribright seems to sell in bulk to designers, 1000bulbs has great selection and great prices for the retail customer.

MISCosity—it will stick with you

Book Review

Early on in journalist Clark Humphrey’s refreshing new book, The MISCosity Manifesto: A Guide to Flowing Smoothly Through an Ultra-Complex World, he quotes F. Scott Fitzgerald:

“The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function. One should, for example, be able to see that things are hopeless and yet be determined to make them otherwise.”

The second half of that quotation is pretty clearly the underlying premise of Humphrey’s book. It’s a non-linear, richly illustrated and footnoted presentation of the author’s extensive knowledge of philosophy, history, politics, and pop culture. Each two-page spread (a “mini-essay”) takes on a topic. My favorites include “More Dada, Less Data,” “The Futile Wish for Order,” “Turn Off the Dark,” and “Dance Me to the End of Love”). And Humphrey doesn’t just take on a topic, he opens the topic and lets ideas pour into the reader’s mind. “Make Your Own Utopia” starts with Sir Thomas More, covers Callenbach’s Ecotopia, and ends with the ongoing journeys of the Star Trek shows.

You’ll come away with something fresh to think about, talk about, or act on (and, if you’re a writer, think of each spread as a juicy prompt to inspire your own work). You might be even able to understand opinions from “the other side” of a topic a bit better.

I’m reading a lot of articles and books about political dystopias and resistance these days (as well as getting ready to publish my own book of resistance short stories). The MISCosity Manifesto is the book doing the most for my spirit.


Predictions You Don’t Want to Come True

A story I wrote under the pen name Alma Emil appears in the new short story anthology Southern Truths.

I wrote “Delia’s Legacy” in January 2024, when we thought the 2024 presidential election would be Biden v. Trump. I suspected the Democrats would lose that contest. So my near-future story is about an elderly couple, possibly the only liberals in their small Southern town, and how they respond to that defeat.

After Kamala Harris got the nomination in July, we considered taking “Delia’s Legacy” out of the anthology. It was possibly through inertia that we left it in. On Tuesday night, to my surprise and dismay, reality caught up to fiction.

Publisher Bob Brown of B Cubed Press has given me permission to reprint the story online. If you’re curious, you can click to read “Delia’s Legacy”.

In Search of an Online Platform?

Social media on the internet is rapidly devolving from Speakers Corner to the Tower of Babel to individuals howling in the digital wilderness.

Why is nobody listening?

With X (Twitter) rotting from the top down, most people fond of communicating via pithy snippets have migrated to Meta’s Threads, Bluesky Social, and the aggregation of Mastodon servers. Or maybe CounterSocial. (Remember the hacktivist app CounterSocial? I don’t, but apparently I have an account there. Sigh.)

Is Microsoft-owned LinkedIn filling the online-conversation need for you?

Those of us who write at mid-length now have a choice of drowning in Facebook’s recent onslaught of repetitive ads (mine are for sweaters and Japanese snacks) while reading about our high school friends’ family vacations or reviving our moribund accounts on Tumblr, Medium, and Substack. We can take payments, or ask for tips via Ko-fi.

And, of course, there’s always Patreon where we can harness ourselves to a schedule of content production for a small-but-loyal paying audiencee—and end up spending half of our posts apologizing for not meeting that schedule. Talk about a self-induced guilt trip.

FROM THE Audience Viewpoint

If none of this sounds appealing to you as a content creator, I’ll point out that this fragmented array of platforms is even less appealing to readers. It used to be that if someone stopped following social media, they missed out on a shared experience, be it Twitter or Facebook. And the community missed them. Now…no one notices.

I’m sure that one or two of these platforms or communities make it easy to browse, find, read, and pay for interesting content. But platforms fall in and out of favor pretty quickly (often because they’ve changed their rules—see: Twitter). This does not motivate me, as a writer, to invest time and energy in one. And I certainly don’t have the time to check in on each of them every day to read what’s been posted by friends. I’m a follower, but usually a ghostly one.

It would be wonderful to have some kind of aggregator for all these sites, the way we used to have blogging aggregators (remember RSS feeds?). But if you look at the current aggregator software, it’s commercial stuff aimed at business clients who want to use it aggregate (often to rip off) other commercially produced content and offer it under their own banners. I haven’t found software that lets you aggregate content posted by individual creators who publishing via Automattic’s WordPress and Tumblr, Square’s Weebly, Google’s venerable Blogger.com, SquareSpace, Medium, and Substack. I doubt very much if such a thing would be commercially viable. (And if I type the word “commercial” one more time here, I’m going to gag.)

Bottom line: Reading social media content is not much fun these days. Particularly the bizarre posts generated by AIs, which seem to have a serious problem with gender-pronoun consistency.

Back to the Blog

As for writing, at this point I’m joining the personal blogging revival, going back to my own WordPress blogging here. You’ll notice that most of the affiliate-marketing bloggers have jumped over to visual platforms such as TikTok, Instagram, YouTube and (to my surprise) Pinterest. That leaves blogging to the writers. So I guess we should get to it.

If any of the platforms mentioned above are providing a rich and comprehensive social media experience (for writers to connect with readers and readers to connect with writers), please leave a comment. What platform is meeting your needs, and why? And if you have a lot of neglected social media accounts out there, ‘fess up—and tell us why that happened. I’m here, and I’m listening.

The short story from a mosaic workshop

One way I break out of a writing block is to switch to a completely different art form—usually one at which I’m a pure novice. Trying to get a grip on the basics of an unfamiliar form often refreshes my sense of the essentials in fiction writing.

This is why in the summer of 2018 I signed up for a day-long mosaic workshop. I had no idea that the visiting instructor was a woman recognized internationally for designing and leading large community mosaic projects (walls, walkways, etc.). So I was astonished to find the workshop packed with attendees ranging from complete novices like me to well-known local mosaic artists.

We’d been told to bring small items (coins, stones, gems) to incorporate into our mosaic pieces. I soon discovered that several of the students had brought along a lot of ego and emotion as well. Some of the seasoned artists were highly competitive, busily snatching up the choicest of the tiles and glass pieces the teacher’s assistants had set out on the tables. And among my fellow newbies there were a few of a type that drives me bonkers: People who babble about how terrified and incompetent they are, literally begging people not to look at what they are doing, while all the time making such an ungodly racket that it’s impossible to ignore them.

I’m fairly confident about my design skills, but had to work hard to follow the directions and then master the techniques for cutting tiles, affixing pieces, and adding grout. I soon figured out a design I liked, came to grips with the results of my clumsy gluing technique, and turned my attention to what was going on around me.

The instructor was moving from person to person, offering some of the most tactful advice and heartfelt encouragement I’d ever heard from a teacher. A few of the attendees, completely wrapped up in their creations, were experiencing fear and frustration. One woman, who revealed that the small items she’d brought had belonged to a daughter who had died recently, simply melted down.

I was fascinated by the instructor’s almost magical ability to validate each person’s struggle to rise to their creative challenges—essentially transforming their roadblocks into stepping stones. In the long run, learning that approach to art would be far more effective than learning how to apply grout evenly. I now had what I’d come for—and it wasn’t a mosaic.

What I experienced in the workshop that day led to my story “Pieced Together,” which I am delighted to say will appear in the anthology The Art of Being Human from Fablecroft Press.

Note: Fablecroft is doing a Kickstarter campaign for the anthology (it’s now aiming for stretch goals). While the ebook will be for general sale, print copies will be available only to backers of the Kickstarter.

Feature Writing and Speculative Fiction

I’m now splitting my time between feature writing and speculative fiction, so I’m going to be switching back and forth between those topics on this blog. I hope this doesn’t drive anyone much crazier than it’s currently driving me. (Only kidding—I’m loving this mix of work.)

After spending the pandemic lockdown working on a writing contract for Rover.com (where I’m continuing to freelance with reviews of cat-related products and services), I’ve recently shifted to work for the Seattle Times weekend Home section. I’m covering topics best described as “preventing and solving household problems.” While I’m not writing much about my own epic home repair and remodeling adventures, those experiences, and my contractor contacts, are definitely informing the feature writing work.

As far as speculative fiction writing, 2020 was my worst year for selling stories since I started publishing short stories in 2015. I sold one story, which hasn’t seen publication yet! But 2021 is off to a fine start.

In an abundance of caution, I rarely mentioned my publications until they are available for sale. But I’m so excited about having “Pieced Together” in The Art of Being Human, from the Australian publisher Fablecroft, that I’m making an exception. Editors Tehani Croft and Stephanie Lai have just announced the book’s table of contents, noting, “This anthology seeks to remind readers of the hope and beauty of the Arts, and the way our engagement with writing, music, film, theatre, artworks in all media, and craft of all kinds are at the core of our humanity.” The Art of Being Human is scheduled for publication later this year.

The inspiration for “Pieced Together” came from an introductory mosaics class I took a few years back. The instructor, Laurel True, is an activist and master of collaborative community mosaic art. While the mosaic plaque I produced in her class was a bit of a hot mess, the story I discovered while taking the class is pretty special.

Speaking of classes…like everyone else, I’m looking for ways to break out of the narrow existence I lived during the pandemic. To that end, I took a class this week taught by vocal coach Alyssa Keene for Jack Straw (Vocal Training for Writers). The class included one-on-one coaching and Keene helped me with “The Train,” which I’d read May 12 for the weekly Facebook Live program Story Hour. Plus, I’ve now learned how to use a pop screen with my Yeti microphone!

Great online panels: Tips and tricks

You don’t often hear someone say “I went to this awful panel and Susie Creamcheese was just great on it.”

That’s because bad panels are a bad experience for everyone.

This post is about looking great on a panel by making your fellow panelists look great.

What You Can Do In Advance

  1. Do some quick social media research on your fellow panelists. You don’t have to read every book or article they’ve written, but know what they write about, what they’ve written recently, and what their hot buttons are.
  2. Do some quick research on the topic(s) of the panel and make a list of five things that are new and unexpected. The idea here is that you will be able to add value to the discussion by bringing something new, and factual, to the discussion. Such as:
    1. An organization that has just formed to deal with one of the key issues.
    2. A tricky procedural issue that needs explaining
    3. An article by an authority outside the field that pertains to the in-field topic you are discussion

What You Can Do at the Start of the Panel

  1. Arrive early so there is time for introductions before the panel goes live. Make sure the name you have on your screen is the name you go by—not your gaming handle or the name of your sister-in-law whose laptop your borrowed.
  2. If the other panelists don’t know you, introduce yourself and give your credentials in two short sentences: “I’m Karen Anderson. I have a background in investigative reporting, worked at Apple for 6 years, and now write arts criticism and science fiction.” (It’s usually the case that no one had time to do their research. If you give them this information, they’ll know when to turn the discussion your way—without information, they’re likely to ignore you.)
  3. If you are asked to give an opening statement to the viewers, give an indication of the topics you’ve done research on: “I’ll be talking about a new organization that has just been formed to look at these issues; asking my fellow panelists to help me figure out a tricky procedural issue; and making a few remarks about this recent article by <outside authority> that pertains to our field.”

What You Can Do During the Panel

  1. Panels have personality. The energy ebbs and flows. There are some folks who always have something to say, and others who wait patiently for an opportunity to get a word in. There are some panelists who make canned speeches, some who like to interact, and others who see every statement as something they need to disagree with. Get a sense of your panel’s personality, and proceed accordingly.
  2. Think of the heart of the panel as being a ball. If you are someone who always has something to say, try to end your comments by tossing the ball to another panelist. “Rick, I saw you shaking your head when I advocated that new policy. What do you think?” If you are someone who waits patiently, you will have to reach out and snatch the ball out of the air. (For the audience, watching someone just sitting, waiting, is like watching the fly on a debate participant’s hair. It becomes a distraction.)
  3. If you find yourself on a panel where other panelists have strong, colorful opinions and you don’t, you can play a key role by steering these folks to questions that you and the audience would love to have answered. If one person is advocating a certain action, ask them (or–more fun–another panelist) a question such as: “I understand why you think that’s critical, but what are the specific steps we’d need to take to get there, and just who do you think would be leading that work?” You’ll look clever, and they’ll look clever as they answer. Everybody wins!
  4. If energy is ebbing, introduce one of the topics you researched in advance, give your opinion, and toss it to the other panelists. In most cases, they’ll leap on it. Be sure to put any relevant URLs or citations into the Chat panel.

What You Can Do at the End of the Panel

  1. Sum up. Think about what you’d say about the panel if you’d been in the audience and, if it’s reasonably positive, give the summary—plus your own twist on it. “It was great to hear someone with a background in our field explore some of the ramifications of these issues. I hadn’t known about the research Sarah mentioned, and it’s definitely something I’m going to look up.”
  2. Thank other panelists and the organizers—it’s fine to take a sentence or two to blurb the organizers and any group or publication they represent.

But, Wait, What About Promoting Me?

By being a good panelist, you have promoted yourself. The audience wanted a great panel, not five minutes of you reciting your resume or waving your latest book around. Trust me on that. If you did a good job, they’ll find you online.

Email tips for organizations in times of pandemic

I’m not a health professional, so I can’t tell you much about dealing with COVID-19 but as a communications professional, I have some suggestions for organizations that want to communicate about the pandemic to their clients, partners, donors and other concerned parties.

Photo by Austin Distel on Unsplash
Photo by Austin Distel on Unsplash

1. Say something.

People are listening. Many people are getting fewer emails and have more time to read emails — and they are desperate for useful information.

If your organization is doing something to protect customers, staff and volunteers in the face of a global pandemic, let people know. Don’t let people wonder.

2. Talk about your customers, staff and volunteers (not about the organization).

This is not the time to pontificate about your adherence to your mission and vision or to throw a bunch of consultant/HR/legal jargon at worried people.

What they want to know, urgently, is how the pandemic will affect the delivery of your services to them and to other vulnerable stakeholders (including your staff and volunteers).

Avoid: Stilted, cliche-clogged statements like “Agency X remains keenly aware of its mission to deliver camping opportunities to our community’s youth…blah, blah.”

Instead: Say specifically what you are doing — where, why, and when: “To protect the children and volunteers who come to our programs, we are suspending operations as of <date>. We’re using this time to have health experts train our staff and establish cleaning procedures for our gym and vehicles.”

Avoid: Vague, generic promises like “In the coming weeks we will make a decision on how to proceed in this uncertain times…blah, blah.”

Instead: Be specific about who, what, when and how: “Our executive director, Jami Joy, will confer with leaders from our parent community (including the parent coaches) during the weekend to decide when we will reopen and what programs we’ll be able to offer. Jami and our board chair, Lee Fitz, will also work with state, city and local health officials. Our goal is to make an announcement on <date>.

3. Send links, not lists.

Give your readers links to where they can always find your most updated information.

I’m seeing newsletters filled with procedures, protocols, hours, etc., but those procedures are likely to change several times in the coming weeks. Rather than have all that quickly outdated information floating around (just waiting to be forwarded or reposted so it can misinform more people), include a link to the web page where you keep your updated information. That way, instead of needing to send out a new email every time some small detail about your response changes, all you will need to do is update the page on your website.

Example: Wondering how to submit paperwork while our office is closed? You’ll find a list of options here.

Another advantage of sending links rather than lists is that it will keep your email short, increasing the chance that people will actually read it.

4. Make sure people can contact you.

Assure people that you are open to input, including urgent reports of problems with your COVID-19 response system. Describe the contact process to them in a way that inspires confidence.

The generic contact page on your website will probably need to be updated with options for sending feedback or reporting emergencies. Again, use specifics such as the days/times your phone line is open, who in your organization is reading the email messages, and the timeframe people can expect for a response.

If your organization is a healthcare organization or related agency that is swamped with activity because of the pandemic, or your organization has people working remotely, and this may delay responses — say so. “We’re working on COVID-19 issues and may not be able to respond to non-emergency emails or calls as quickly as usual.” The idea is not to promise the impossible, but to manage expectations and reduce frustration.

5. Have the email come from an individual in the organization.

A message from a well-known leader (it doesn’t need to be the executive director or board chair) increases credibility. Plus, more people are likely to read it.

Messages from “us” may feel to the writer as through they are expressing a sense of teamwork. But in times of stress (like a life-threatening pandemic) the faceless “us” can come across to the reader as cold and institutional and reinforce the fear that “no one is taking responsibility.”

Doing It Right

To see an example of an organization that is meeting the pandemic challenge (both in terms of response and communicating about the response) check out the website for this Seattle restaurant.