Blog

Ain’t that the song we’d sing in the car, drivin’ downtown

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Reading: Tonight I read “King of the South,” an article about sports talk radio host Paul Finebaum, in the current issue of the New Yorker. I interviewed Paul in 2007, and I was admittedly starstruck. The man controls the blood pressure of half the people in this state! I was tickled when, later that week, a friend called and asked if I had talked to Paul Finebaum recently. Apparently he referenced a conversation we had while on the air, and my friend thought it sounded like something I would say. (I would like to add “paraphrased on the Paul Finebaum Radio Network” to my resume, along with my 2004 College Football Pick ‘Em victory, if I only had more space.)

This morning, I read “4:52 on Christmas Morning,” a New York magazine story about a house fire that killed five people last year. It was a horrifying story, but well written and reported.

Next up, I’m reading “The Invention of Hugo Cabret” by Brian Selznick in advance of a bookish gathering I’m hosting next week. I’m tempted to try and read “The Hobbit” before the movie is released (and my book club goes to see it for our December meeting). I’ve never read any Tolkein. But considering the number of library books on my floor, I think that one may have to wait.

Listening: I picked up “A Charlie Brown Christmas” soundtrack by Vince Guaraldi Trio at Rite Aid this weekend, so I’ve been driving around town with some very pleasant tunes. I’m excited about this show at Bottletree in two weeks, when Jeffrey Bützer and T.T. Mahony will perform the album in its entirety.

Smelling: OK, weird category, I know. But tonight I took a bath with Aveda Stress-Fix bath salts, and it was awesome.

Watching: I’m on a “New Girl” kick. Zooey Deschanel’s character is irresistibly likable, and I want her entire wardrobe. Except the maroon-and-pink striped sweater she wore on an episode a few weeks ago. I already have that.

Making me happy: Being surrounded by people who I care about, work I find satisfying (and coworkers I care about!),  my cat, piles of books, the holiday season, coffee, a board-game night, life.

And this video.

Today’s subject line is from Rascal Flatts’ “These Days.” Sorry. It’s stuck in my head now. The 16th #bloglikecrazy prompt was to share what you’re into currently. 

Four Simple Goals

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I’ve been participating in #bloglikecrazy at my own pace. I didn’t begin this challenge to blog every day in November until halfway through that month, and though I’ve blogged most days since I began, I haven’t worried about taking a few off here and there.

The next prompt is to set four simple goals for the rest of the year. (The prompt was intended to be addressed on Nov. 14, so there would have been a little more time left in the year. Oh well.) I always find December challenging, so perhaps this is perfect timing.

First, I want to remain present this month. December is so crazy, with deadlines at work made more difficult by sources becoming hard to get in touch with during the holidays, with Christmas parties, with expectations for the season. Since I’ve been in journalism, I’ve dreaded this time of year. But I’m in better spirits so far this month, and I’m aiming to remain present in the day to day rather than wishing my way into January.

I also want to stay calm. The aforementioned deadlines have stressed me out in the past. Because so many people take the week between Christmas and New Year’s off, the deadline for our February issue is usually the year’s most challenging. I’ve tried to plan this year with that in mind, while also warning new staff members that this is how things to tend to go. I’m preparing the best I can while aiming to accept the rest.

I want to (need to!) stop shopping. I finished my Christmas shopping weeks ago, and the gifts are wrapped and under the tree at my house and my parents’ house in Florida. But all of the sales, the promotions, the holiday craft bazaars can be tempting, and often result in me buying more gifts–or buying for myself. I’ve got plenty, and I know my friends and family aren’t concerned with me spending more money on them.

Finally, I want to prepare for a quieter 2013. One of my weaknesses is overextending myself, and I’m already taking steps away from that for next year. But even as I turn down one commitment, it’s tempting for me to replace it with another. I’d like to spend the remainder of this month remembering how valuable “me time” is, and continue to prioritize that in the future.

“Everything is copy.”

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

That’s the lesson that the parents of one of my favorite writers, Nora Ephron, taught their daughter. They were screenwriters, and Nora rebelled by becoming a journalist. (Later, she ended up a screenwriter, too. And an essayist. And a novelist.)

So when I spontaneously decided yesterday to complete a two-day juice cleanse, of course I decided to write about it. You can read about my journey this weekend at Birmingham magazine’s website.

And don’t worry, Mom and Dad. If I feel badly, I’ll eat.

Leaving a Legacy

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

A couple of years ago, my roommate was working on a five-year plan. The idea frightened me: What should my goals be? Where did I want to reside? How would I get from point A to point B?

I’ve achieved most of my career goals earlier than I expected. When I worked in newspapers, my aim was to report for the Birmingham News by the time I turned 30; I started work there the month before I hit 25. I interned at Birmingham magazine while I was in grad school, and when I left I thought it would be a great job if they were ever hiring. Tomorrow is my six-year anniversary. After I’d been at the magazine for a while, I knew I wanted to become managing editor someday. I assumed that role in July 2009 (days after my 28th birthday).

Now, my career goals focus more on what the magazine can achieve than what I can achieve. We were finalists in the general excellence category for the 2011 City and Regional Magazine Association awards, and I literally danced with joy around Urban Standard when I found out. Earlier this month I submitted for the 2012 awards, and I can’t wait to find out if we’ll be finalists in any categories this year. (Finalists are announced in the spring, and the winners are announced at the conference in May 2013.)

My copy of "Fading Ads of Birmingham" was the first that author Charles Buchanan and photographer Jonathan Purvis autographed. (Photo by Carrie Beth Buchanan)
My copy of “Fading Ads of Birmingham” was the first that author Charles Buchanan and photographer Jonathan Purvis autographed. (Photo by Carrie Beth Buchanan)

And, OK, I do have some career goals left on the table: Someday I want to see my byline in Esquire and the New York Times Book Review, and I want to write a book, like almost every other writer out there. (Yesterday I saw the fruits of another dream come to life: Charles Buchanan, who I hired in 2010 to write an article about the “ghost signs” in town, has published a book on that subject. The publisher approached him after the Birmingham magazine article. I am ridiculously proud to have made some small contribution to this book.)

However, I’m no longer willing to compromise my personal life to achieve those career goals. For years, work came before everything else. You know you have a problem when you work in a 17-story building that includes multiple law offices, and yet the security guard recognizes you well enough to lecture you about working too much. I love my job, and I work hard. But my work isn’t the primary mark I want to make on this earth.

While discussing this with a friend about a year and a half ago, he asked me a few simple questions: “What neighborhood do you want to live in? What do you want to be known for? What does your life at home look like?”

My answers were equally straightforward. I want to live in Birmingham. I want to be known for caring about people. I want to have a family (whether that’s a husband or a husband and kids–we’ll see). As I said to that friend then, “I’m more concerned with the quality of my work than the details of it. I want to do something that’s meaningful to me. (I’m) more concerned about caring for people than having my name recognized.”

In recent years, I’ve gotten better at maintaining that balance, but I believe I’ll walk that tightrope for the rest of my life.

The 13th #bloglikecrazy prompt was about leaving a legacy. I am slowly but surely working my way through these topics!

An Object of Beauty

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

This is the truth: In a vacuum, I am comfortable with my appearance. No, strike that. I like how I look. I like that my hair requires next-to-no effort and that it’s crazy and all over the place. I like my face. I like my body. I don’t think any of these things are perfect (in fact, I could tell you more about my imperfections than anyone), but I am strong and I like who I am.

 
But sometimes, I lose sight of the truth. Growing up, I was the butt of many, many jokes. My best childhood friend frequently made fun of appearance. Kids on the middle-school bus would jerk away if my hair brushed their skin (this was before I realized that I had curly hair, so instead I looked like I had a Brillo pad on my head). In high school, the football players made fun of my small chest. (Surprise: That stopped when I made the cheerleading squad.) 
 
I didn’t like my looks until I was in grad school. I don’t know when I first looked and the mirror and thought, “Hey! This is nice!” But boy, was it a nice transition. Appearances aren’t the most important thing, but isn’t life easier when you don’t feel badly about the package in which you’re contained?
 
Somewhere along the line, though, my insecurities about the way I look got skewed in the opposite direction. Over the years, I’ve spent time with people who praised me more for my appearance than for who I am. Don’t get me wrong, it’s lovely to be told that you look nice. We all appreciate a compliment, right? But when that’s all you hear, or what you hear the most of, it becomes objectifying. 
 
I am not an object. I am not a pretty tchotchke to perch on a shelf. I’m surrounded by people who value me. Sometimes, though, I need to remind myself about what really makes me who I am.
 
Today’s subject line is a blatant ripoff of the Steve Martin novel “An Object of Beauty,” which I read for the second time last week. Boy, is that man talented.

Take every chance you dare, I’ll still be there

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I’ve been gradually but enthusiastically participating in the #bloglikecrazy challenge, administered by my friend Javacia Harris Bowser and embraced by the local women’s writing group she founded, See Jane Write. I’ve loved receiving Javacia’s daily prompts, and it’s been a wonderful way to get writing (for myself) again. But today’s prompt has stumped me.

Javacia asked us to write about inspiration found in mundane moments. I know what she’s talking about–haven’t we all had those simple moments that have resulted in an “a-ha!” insight? But sometimes, it’s hard to view anything as mundane.

One of my best friends is moving this week. We met in college, when I was a senior and he was a freshman, and we’ve lived near each other for the better part of 10 years. I’m a big fan of “When Harry Met Sally,” and I’ll admit that having a best friend who is a man has sometimes been a little different. He’s not my only best friend, but he’s definitely one of the people who understands me best. After more than a decade of friendship, he’s more like family than a friend.

That’s pretty mundane, right? Meeting people and hitting it off is a pretty regular occurrence, especially in college. But every friendship is magical, especially when it stands through time.

So I may be in denial that he’s moving. I’m so excited for him, because I think the job he’s leaving for is a great opportunity, and he’ll be closer to his family. But friends are a treasure, and I’m sorry to see another one move away.

Today’s subject line is from Nickel Creek’s “When You Come Back Down.”

Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Step one in becoming a writer: Pick up your pen.

Or your keyboard. Or your smartphone. Whatever. Grab your typewriter if it makes you feel good. Just start writing.

Step two: Write some more.

You know what they say about practice, and while I don’t believe “perfect” writing exists, you’re only going to get better by writing, writing, writing.

Step three: Read good writing.

Yes, it can be overwhelming, humbling, to read a great work. I often think, “Who do I think I am? What do I have to offer compared to this?” and I know I’m not alone in that. But reading good writing can also teach you an awful lot about what good writing is, and that’s essential if you’re going to craft such work yourself. Pay attention. Notice what you like about it, and study how the writer got there. If it’s a journalistic piece, consider the questions the reporter may have asked to uncover those details. Heck, if you think the writer may be accessible, reach out to them and ask what went into the piece.

Step four: Find a good editor.

Even a very good editor needs an editor. This is something of a mantra around my office, and I’ve read too many books and article where a good editor could have elevated a piece from passable to masterful. Find someone who can offer you honest insight into your work, who isn’t afraid to give you constructive criticism that will help you fine tune a story. And pay attention to the changes they make–these will help you learn and improve for the future.

Step five: Repeat.

Today’s title is the first line of the Beatles’ “Paperback Writer.” The 11th #bloglikecrazy prompt was to write a how-to entry. I think my past interns and students could attest that this is advice I offer frequently!

I’d call myself so very lucky just to have some company to share a cup of tea with me

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

One of the things I’ve most regretted about my time in college is that I didn’t date more while I was there. When else in life do you have a group of people around at all times, with so many opportunities to get to know one another? Don’t get me wrong, I’m quite happily unmarried at 31. I’ve learned a lot about myself in these intervening years, and I’m very happy with my dating life. But in the past, when I’ve started dating new people, I’ve often mourned the lack of context that is typical in post-college life.

Maybe that’s one of the reasons “You’ve Got Mail” has continued to captivate me after all these years. I saw the movie in theaters when it was released in 1998, and I’ve watched it so many times since that it’s one of the few films from which I can quote line after line. Without fail, Kathleen and Joe’s romance grabs hold of my heart.

I’m a sucker for the written word, and I love watching these two fall for each other in large part via email. (In 1998, it didn’t occur to me that they were essentially having an e-affair. I guess that’s the beauty and naivete of the Internet not yet being ubiquitous.) Their words reveal their character, and they gradually come to know and trust each other.

I learned something about online dating from that movie, I suppose, although it wasn’t centered around a dating website. I’ve tried several such sites, and in fact I met my boyfriend through match.com. And just as “You’ve Got Mail” reminds me on every viewing, I’ve learned that you can tell quite a bit about someone from his words. But of course, “real life” context (as Kathleen and Joe get quite a bit of in the movie) sweetens and deepens that sense of understanding.

The 10th #bloglikecrazy prompt was to rewatch a favorite movie and write about a lesson it’s taught you. I didn’t have time to rewatch “You’ve Got Mail” this weekend–there was football on!–but boy, do I love that movie. The subject line is a lyric from “The Puppy Song” by Harry Nilsson, which plays during the film’s title sequence.

Well you know, we all want to change the world

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Next year will mark my 10th year of blogging. When I began, it was partly because I had taken a bit of time off of school and I needed something to keep me engaged. This was also just before I began my master’s program in journalism, and if you look back at those early entries, I think my lack of training shows. My blog isn’t a journalistic effort, but my writing is considerably more efficient now.

But now, I write for a living and spend a portion of my work life blogging. So why do I continue to write in this blog?

There have definitely been times that I’ve put my blog on the back burner, in part because I do spend so much of my energy writing elsewhere. I started blogging for fun, and I don’t want this site to become a burden. That’s a grace I offer myself, and the reason why I sometimes let months pass without updating.

So what’s the point? Well, I could argue that it’s to my advantage to keep my name out there. We say that your name is your brand, and there’s truth to that. As a journalist in this increasingly digital world, it’s important that my work be easy to find and that it reflect some knowledge of technology and digital media.

That’s all true enough, and reason enough to keep blogging. But I’m really more interested in this platform because it gives me a space to air out my thoughts and join in conversation with those interested. My journalistic work isn’t about me and my opinions (nor should it be!). My journal doesn’t offer room for interaction (and again, it shouldn’t). This blog doesn’t focus on any specific theme, but it allows me a space in between, a “third place” in my writing. (Yes, I just ripped off Starbucks’ terminology.)

It’s a loosely defined mission, but it’s mine. And in it, I find space to flex my writing muscles, which, after all these years, remains one of my favorite things to do.

The ninth #bloglikecrazy prompt was to write a mission for your blog. The subject line comes from the Beatles’ “Revolution.” If you didn’t already know that, we need to talk.

Just breathe

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Yoga pants make for great travel attire. As a result, I’ve spent the past two days in yoga pants, lounging on my parents’ couch and bemoaning the fact that I can’t actually practice yoga right now, doctor’s orders. I had a mole excised from my shoulder on Tuesday, and the dermatologist asked me to avoid lifting heavy things and exercise that would put weight on my shoulder or stretch my back, at least for a week. (By the way, the pathology results came back all clear. No need to worry about me!)

As I entered my 30s, I knew I needed to find some form of exercise that worked for me. I have always been thin, but I have rarely been in shape (save for a few years of cheerleading and dance team). I’m a bookworm, not an athlete.

But I’ve had joint pain since I quit cheerleading more than a decade ago, and I knew that healthier habits would benefit me in the long run. In my mid-20s, my appetite suddenly changed from a desire for the junk food that powered me in college to largely natural, preservative-free foods. (And yes, I counted it a blessing. I used to be incredibly picky. I don’t know what happened.) I knew, though, that any sort of fitness craving was not likely to mysteriously happen on its own.

I had been to yoga a few times in the past, and I generally enjoyed it once I convinced myself to get there. I often felt awkward and didn’t know what to wear, a silly insecurity but one that would help keep me from exercise nonetheless. After I was introduced to Lululemon last summer, that was no longer an issue. As I have moved closer to the heart of the city in recent years, my proximity to classes has also increased. Money was one of the remaining obstacles.

Last December I wished for The Yoga Circle to run an unlimited month Groupon. I reasoned that this would give me time to see how I really felt about yoga, and to so so at a reasonable price. The next day, such a Groupon appeared. I began my unlimited month at the year’s start.

And I was hooked. I tend to worry and plan more than is necessary, and yoga proved a perfect fit for my over-active mind. When I’m focused on breathing and settling into a pose, I’m not thinking about my to-do list or budget. (Well, not usually.) The physical benefits have been a bonus; my joint pain has been greatly reduced, and I’m stronger than ever before.

I bought a 16-class package after that initial unlimited month ran out, and I quickly discovered it wasn’t enough to satiate my craving. It’s been a year since I started practicing on my own, and nearly a year since I became a regular at my studio. Today, my yoga pants remind me how eager I am to return to practice. And in the meantime, I might just sit in class and breathe for a while.

The eighth #bloglikecrazy prompt focused on fitness. Today’s subject line comes from Anna Nalick’s “Breathe.”