This is a snippet from the March 29, 1901 Brooklyn Eagle describing the recently published first work of a young Upton Sinclair. The book was not a success, but the description of the way the idea took hold of the writer is such a pure example of inspiration and a sense of purpose, a calling. I re-publish it here (originally I found it on the website of the Brooklyn Public Library) for all of us to muse over.

It is possible for you–for all of us–to be gripped with the same determination. Yes, he was young. Yes, he was talented. But, the real magic here is the way he “made up his mind” to become a novelist and the fact that he “had been dreaming of a novel” for three years before it possessed him totally. This is a description of giving birth. It is a description of the rhythm of creation: idea-musing-dreaming-working-working harder-getting wild-getting carried away-wrestling with it!-finishing in a heap, weeping with joy…relief. How many times I have started this process and then dropped the project somewhere in the middle of the trajectory? Too many. Too many. A friend of mine, Hugo Cory, says: “Hell is unfinished projects.” Most of us know what this means. This piece helps me see that the reason it’s so deflating to start something and not finish it: you don’t complete nature’s cycle. It’s like getting half-pregnant. It’s like needing to sneeze and then…not being able to. It’s like–of course–sex without the climax. The half-finished job depletes. The wholly finished job offers relief. Which is a state of completeness…which is bliss.

“Beauty is essential to the natural unfoldment of the human soul. The Mysteries held that man, in part at least, was the product of his environment. Therefore they considered it imperative that every person be surrounded by objects that would evoke the highest and noblest sentiments. They proved that it was possible to produce beauty in life by surrounding life with beauty. They discovered that symmetrical bodies were built by souls continuously in the presence of symmetrical bodies; that noble thoughts were produced by minds surrounded by examples of mental nobility. Conversely, if a man were forced to look upon an ignoble or asymmetrical structure it would arouse within him a sense of ignobility which would provoke him to commit ignoble deeds. If an ill-proportioned building were erected in the midst of a city there would be ill-proportioned children born in that community; and men and women, gazing upon that asymmetrical structure, would live inharmonious lives. Thoughtful men of antiquity realized that their great philosophers were the natural products of the aesthetic ideals of architecture, music, and art established as the standards of the cultural systems of the time.

The substitution of the discord of the fantastic for the harmony of the beautiful constitutes one of the great tragedies of every civilization.”

–– Manly P. Hall, “The Secret Teachings of All Ages”

I’m in Louisville visiting family. My father likes to tease his Brooklyn-based daughter about how progressive Louisville is by calling it “Manhattan-on-the-Ohio.” I’ve come around to thinking he’s right. There’s something going on here that very much resembles the farm-to-table movement so hot in places like Brooklyn, San Francisco, and Portland…but this is Kentucky.

Tonight we dined at a restaurant called Harvest in a revitalized area downtown dubbed NuLu. I’ve eaten here before on a previous visit and was dying to come back. It rivals anything in New York City for its heart and authentic attitude towards good, fresh food and there’s something more…ah, space. I think the people here simply have more space to think and create. They’ve taken the time. They’ve worked it out. They’re not sweating. They can focus when they talk to you. And for me, a new(ish) mom…they won me over immediately when the waitress approached the table and said to me, before giving the specials or pouring water, “We have organic, local baby food. Tonight we have carrots and butternut squash. Would you like some?” I didn’t hesitate. A few minutes later a bowl of delicious squash puree arrived from the kitchen…WITH a baby spoon. That sent me-and E-over the moon.

Talk about hospitality. Southerners do it right.

I’ve been working on a digital startup. This is an unusual client for me, but one I was eager to take on. When a young women said to me in a meeting recently, “you’re like my grandmother” regarding my insistence on carrying around the actual newspaper, I knew something had to be done. It’s time to stop wondering what the kids are up to. My trendspotter gene was activated. I was ready to infiltrate a subculture…which happens to be the mass culture.

How is it so far? Baffling, inspiring, courageous, naive (sometimes), and dynamic. It’s been exactly as I’d hoped: an immersion into the future of commerce.

This startup client of mine is working with the best programming company around. Pivotal Labs is a pioneer and leader in what’s termed “agile” programming. This is a development style that waits for no man. The offices are a whirlwind of activity…because my brain likes to leap backwards in time thousands of years I tend to see it as a marketplace of the ancient world, something Marco Polo might have encountered on his travels. The clients working on their laptops, grabbing a coffee, eating breakfast or lunch in the common space, pacing the floor, are working on some of the most promising businesses of the next 5 years. The programmers are appropriately techie–all t-shirts and bare feet, playing ping-pong and eating bowls of cereal between epic bouts of intense focus.

As if Pivotal wasn’t techie enough, they share offices with the “#1 startup accelerator in the world” (from their website), Techstars. These young netpreneurs are preparing for a one shot pitch to a roomful of venture capitalists. Three months of mentoring and hard work are coming to a close next week and the pressure is on. Some of them are probably sleeping at the offices.

So, it was no surprise to me in this electric atmosphere of innovation and expectation, that I was passed a note while on the phone that read: “Seth Godin is speaking in the common space now.” I jumped off the call (rudely…sorry, Peter Spear) and went to hear this mammoth of marketing speak. There, in front of the motley crew of hoepfuls, he taught a Marketing 101 course that was perfectly tailored to the audience. He started by tackling the main issue with tact and honesty: “You will be judged,” he said of the presentations they would give in a matter of days, “you may not like it, but you have to accept it.” And then he proceeded to tell them what they could do to improve their chances of being judged favorably.

I liked best his response to a young engineer’s question which divided marketing out from the process of building the product. “Well, you see, I don’t think about marketing like most people,” he said, “Marketing is the way your company makes people feel.” I love that. So simple. So true. So Seth.

Thank you digital world for being the great web of connections and interactions and opportunities I wanted you to be.

This weekend The New York Times ran a story about a 76-year old man named Bobby Kirk who has become an overnight sensation based on his penchant for simple observations well put. The whole thing started with a local news interview in which Mr. Kirk suggested it was too hot to fish. (Actually, what he said was, “I never got a bite. I reckon it was too hot.”)

The Times speculates about the reason for all the attention. One reporter suggests: “He’s just a plain-spoken, average guy. I think it’s just time for the average guy’s opinion to come out.”

I have my own opinion: Bobby Kirk is no ‘average guy.’ He’s an extraordinary guy, a poet in the truest sense of the word, in a way that’s been lost to modern culture. Continue Reading »