The Thinking Knitter

I thought about my dad today. At the grocery store no less.

When my brother and I were kids, Dad would often say, “Well, they sure saw you coming,” when we used our allowances to buy something he thought was a waste of money. And believe me, he had a broad definition for “waste of money.” I’m guessing that he still said it to my mother when she’d tell him about something I’d bought and told her about in one of our telephone conversations.

So, what brought that memory to mind at the grocery store? A tomato.

OK, technically it’s a tomato keeper. I saw it and knew I had to have it. Why? Because I already have the onion and garlic keepers, and they work wonderfully. (Incidentally, I also want the pepper and herb keepers, but I can’t find them locally.) And if they work, why wouldn’t the tomato keeper?

So, why would my father question this purchase? It’s simple: to him, plastic wrap, plastic containers (preferably those that used to hold butter or other such products), and aluminum foil would work just as well. Personally, I beg to differ based on experience. Those of you who follow me in myriad places may find it hard to believe that I’m such a diehard about these keepers, especially since they are mono-taskers. Yes, it’s true that I try to avoid anything that is usable for just one thing, but sometimes ya just gotta cry “Uncle” and get what works. Yes, he’d probably laugh, shake his head, and say, “Yep, they sure saw the girl [he always called me 'the girl'] coming.”

As I thought about this, I began to wonder what my father would have said about my knitting fanaticism. I know he’d think he’d raised a moron if he knew how much I spend on sock yarn–even though I’m pretty frugal. He’d be one of those who would say to my mother (but probably not to me), “Doesn’t she know she can get socks already made for a lot less money?” Yet, I can say without a doubt that he’d be able to appreciate the work that goes into knitting something, especially a sock. His mother crocheted, and he taught me how to embroider, telling me that you can tell how good it is by looking on the back: it has to be neat on the back. My father spent hours in the garage, which doubled as a woodshop, making things. I remember the care he put into making a wooden chopping block for my mother. And it was beautiful. I’ve not seen it for years, but I can still see the way the different types of wood made beautiful stripes.

My father would understand the need to create. He’d also appreciate the skill and time that went into creating something like a sock. But, this man–who often broke down objects to get the wood or whatever to make something new–probably wouldn’t understand the desire for fancy yarns, expensive yarns, yes, even yarns because they’re popular. He was, after all, a pragmatic utilitaritan who often looked at things with an eye as to what else they could be.

My father died about 11 years ago. My family was never close, and since I moved away decades ago, our closeness is basically limited to twice-monthly telephone calls. But every once in a while, I think of something my father did or said, and it makes me smile. How odd that I feel closer to him now than I ever did.

I have a confession to make. I may be addicted to Julie & Julia. I was at the theater the day it opened. And since it came out on inDemand and other services, I have seen it, on average, once a week. There have been weeks when I’ve watched it three times. Seriously. In fact, I may be watching it now.

Those who know me well, or at least follow my other blogs or track me on social networking sites, will not be surprised by that. I’ve known how to cook longer than I’ve been knitting. As a child, I sat in front of the television and watched Julia Child while others watched cartoons or even–get this–went outside to play. We never had any of her food, but I loved watching her. She instilled a love of cooking in me, which my mother appreciated. In fact, I cooked for my family before I hit my teens. And my mother was never hesitant to accept my offers to cook.

There’s a scene early in the movie in which Julie is making a chocolate cream pie. To paraphrase, Julie tells Eric that one of the reasons she loves to cook is that, even after a bad day at work, you can come home and mix chocolate and cream and know it will become a pie. Personally, I tend to think of knitting that way, too. When I worked at an outside job, there were days I was so happy I brought my latest project to work. It was a tense and often discouraging work environment, and sometimes, the only thing that got me through the afternoon was knowing there was a project I could knit on during my lunch. And when I got home, there was always knitting I could work on to relieve the tension. The simple act of knitting and purling was often enough to make me feel human and of value again–something that work often did not.

And since I’ve become a full-time freelancer, there are still times when the frustation level nears Def Con 3. Now, there’s no buffer between me and a troubling client. I can’t tell you how many times knitting has kept me sane or stopped me from killing someone (figuratively?). In fact, I usually keep a project near my desk for when I need a timeout.

Later in the movie, when Julie’s being particularly narcissistic, she whines to Eric that if she doesn’t reach her goal, she will have wasted a year of her life. Who, Ms. Powell, on this I cannot agree. Think about it. OK, so what if she doesn’t reach her goal. Look at what has happened. Her blog got attention from people who can help her writing career. She learned how to be a better cook. How could either of those be a waste of time?

In April, I set a goal of knitting 100 socks in a year. (You can follow me on The Evolving Sock Knitter.) I must admit that is an “out there” goal for me, as I am a relatively slow knitter. Still, I am confident I can reach that goal, or at least come close. But even if I don’t, there is no way I could consider this project a waste of time. My sock-knitting skills are improving with each sock I knit. Plus, I now have more handknit socks than I have ever had. Plus, I will be knitting some socks and donating them to charity. Perhaps most of all, I have met some wonderful and supportive people online. That, in and of itself, makes this project a huge success, regardless of how many socks I knit.

I urge you to take something you like, or at least something you want to know more about, and set a learning goal. It doesn’t have to be cooking or even knitting. Maybe you’ve always wanted to learn to play the piano, or play it better. If playing the piano is something you want to strive for, you don’t have to set a goal of playing at Carnegie Hall (of course you could). Select a piece of music you’d love to play, and work toward that. And remember that if you never reach that goal, you will have improved as a pianist, and sometimes that’s all it takes.

Yes, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? Trust me, it’s not that I haven’t been thinking. Quite the contrary. Sometimes I think too much, and that might have been the case of late.

I am never at a loss for ideas. A client once called me the “Idea Volcano.” It’s true; ideas often seem to spew from my brain. I take the best ones (or at least the ones I like the most), take notes, perhaps talk them over with a person or two, and then they sit. And sit. And sit some more. It’s not that they’re bad ideas or that I’m no longer excited about them. Most often, it’s about then that I get swamped with work. Right now, I don’t have the luxury of turning down assignments. So, my time, energy, and brain power gets diverted to mundane things like making a living in a non-fiber field.

Now, I am happy to say that I have a group of incredibly talented friends, and many of their knitting/fiber-related goals are taking off. I couldn’t be happier for them. Really.  Yet, when I read of a newly accepted submission or a design that’s become incredibly popular–or other such things–I have to admit that there’s an occasional twinge of “Why not me?” Sometimes it seems as though everyone who wants success in the knitting field is finding success except me. Yes, a pity party commences. In complete honesty, however, I don’t let it last very long.

I was going through this a while ago when it suddenly hit me. I admit I can sometimes be dense, but this time, I was more dense than usual. Why are these people finding success? Because they put themselves and their creations out there. Most have full-time jobs, and some have families. Still, they found the time to get their act together and put their lives on the path to achieving a goal they have set for themselves. They designed things. They wrote things. And then they submitted them to someone who could help them realize their goals.

Now, I’m not really a designer, and though I do dye, I really don’t have the time or place to do so now. But I’m a decent writer. I just need to come up with ideas and sit down and write. And, of course, submit them when finished.

I’ve also been working on plans to grow Knit-a-While, The Evolving Sock Knitter, and Knitting Purls. I’d been toying with an idea for The Evolving Sock Knitter, and today I actually contacted a designer to put it into action. I got a positive response, so I’m anxious to continue.

All right, I have to admit that part of the reason I started putting plans into action today was because I am editing another awful manuscript. But whatever the incentive, I got started. And we all know that goals can’t be reached without taking that first step.

I was sitting at the intersection, waiting for the light to turn green. There wasn’t  another car in sight, but since I’m a law-abiding driver (well, except maybe for that speed thing), I obeyed the “No Right Turn on Red” sign. My eyes wandered across the highway, past the green expanse to the other highway, and up the steep hill. Sitting there, amid the dense green trees, was a beautiful house. It was one of those houses you just want to get a closer look at.

Ergo, the problem. How do I get there? There’s no road from where I am to where the house is–or at least there doesn’t  appear to be. There’s a foot bridge to the other highway, but that’s no help. Besides, once on the other highway, there doesn’t seem to be a way up to the house. Logic says there has to be a road to the house, as it is unlikely that it is one of those accessible only by helicopter. Well, it could be, but I doubt it. There must be a road from another direction, but I’m clueless as to where that might be.

The same is often true for goals we set. We know what we want to achieve, but the how is less clear. In some cases, we’re clueless on how to achieve our goals. In other cases, we’ve cast a definite course to our goals. It seems to be a logical course, and it probably is. But, we all know that life can be somewhat less than logical. We start out on the path, and things seem to be going well. We

Big ideas call for a big pen

establish short-term goals along the way, and we meet them. It looks as though our long-term goal is reachable–and via the path we’ve established.

Then comes a roadblock. It can be something caused by ourselves, someone else, or something we can’t quite put our finger on. Regardless of cause, it’s there, and we have to deal with it. There are three things we can do. First, we can choose to do nothing. Sadly, this is the choice many of us make. We decide that if there’s a deterrent, it means our goal is unreachable. We should just give up, because we’re not smart enough, not creative enough, not rich enough, not “connected” enough, not good enough. Enough, already.

Second, we can work through the roadblock. This isn’t always a practical solution, but it is certainly worth considering. After all, we put a lot of work into formulating our goal and the path to achieve it. At least we should have. And at times, there are things that can be done to work through roadblocks. Sometimes, it’s just a matter of letting time pass. Maybe there’s a toxic person in your environs and once you let go of him or her, things clear.

But sometimes, the simple fact of the matter is that the original plan is not going to work. That doesn’t mean it was a bad plan or that your long-term goal is unrealistic. Things change, and the challenge for us is to be able to adapt to changes that occur along the way. Like the house across the highway, maybe you “can’t get there from here.” But it’s likely you can get there from over there, or maybe over that way. Turn that corner, and there it is–or maybe there’s another curve you have to negotiate. Every step, every detour, is a learning experience that will enhance the feeling of success you’ll have when you reach that ultimate goal. And though the path you end up taking may be frustrating, the sense of accomplishment you’ll feel on completion will be astounding.

So, when you determine what you want as a long-time goal, be sure to build in some flexibility along the way. It’s so easy to feel discouraged when plans hit a snag–and trust me, there will be people who make sure you feel discouraged–but if you go into the process (and goal achievement is a process) knowing you’ll probably have to make adjustments along the way, those snags will be much easier to deal with.

For a long time, too long perhaps, things seemed to be going really well for me. I figured I was due, after all, things had been rough for a long time. But then along came social networking nastiness, a work slowdown, and other things. I am reminded, however, that this too shall pass, and actually, it has started to get better, for which I am eternally grateful.

During this time, I remembered a Knit-a-While post, “Musings on Etch A Sketch.” It seem appropriate to reprint it here.

Musings on Etch A Sketch

This has been a rough year for so many people I know–and for countless more I don’t. People who thought they had secure jobs learned they didn’t. Some who had retired found it necessary to go back to work–or at least try to find a job. Individuals who had homes found them threatened. And here where I live, 12  people who came to this country and wanted to become citizens–plus one who helped them achieve their goals–had their lives taken by a man with a gun who was ready to die.

Like most people, I could have had a better year; for the first time, I actually feared that I wouldn’t have money to pay the rent. But I could have had a worse year. The rent has always been paid, though sometimes late. I’m well, the cats are well, there’s a roof over our head, there is food in the fridge, and coffee. But I have been thinking about how my plans seem to get derailed. Why?

Then it hit me. Life is like an Etch A Sketch. You can twist and turn the knobs with abandon, letting the lines go where they may. That’s how you can live life, too. Or, you can turn the knobs of the Etch A Sketch carefully and determinedly, slowly mapping out a drawing that will amaze and astound your friends. You can live your life that way, too. But you know what? No matter how you live your life, or draw on your Etch A Sketch, you’re likely to have to make adjustments. Whether your lines are planned out or willy-nilly, it is inevitable that something–or someone–will come along and jostle your arm. Some of your lines will vanish. Sometimes that jostle is more like a full-on tackle, and most–or all–of your lines disappear. What happens next, of course, is up to you. You can give up, or you can try to re-create your lines. But, there’s a third possibility. You now have the opportunity to create something better. Even bigger and better! Oh, I’m not saying it will be easy or happen overnight (or even in a year or so). But it can happen. It’s up to you.

Sadly, some people see their lives as though captured in a Spirograph. Remember those? You put a pen in the hole of a template, and you could draw beautifully colored spirals. Instead of the beauty of a spiral, though, some people’s lives seem to just go on and on, never changing color, never breaking free. But remember: you controlled the Spirograph; you were the one who inserted the pen and kept drawing. You could always remove the pen and stop the spiral or change colors. And though it’s admittedly harder, you can do that in life as well. It’s your life.

I need to remember this more often.

I’ve been on a social networking hiatus for the past few days, and it’s given me a lot of time to think (and to actually get things done, but that’s for another post). As I’m sure you know, knitters are a friendly bunch. At least for the most part. But, like any group, there are those who seem not to be happy unless they are tearing down someone or something. Why do some feel it necessary to criticize the way another does something, tell her she’s doing it wrong? And really, who has the right to criticize someone because they choose to knit a project that has been incredibly popular? Oh, and then there are the yarn snobs, who think one should shy away from yarns that don’t come with a big price tag.

Why do they do this? Well, I have a theory. Actually, it’s more than a theory. Some people can only feel good about themselves if they at least try to make others feel bad about themselves. I can’t think of many things that are sadder than that.

This past week I was editing a memoir about a school. One of its former students mentioned that she had a teacher who often asked his students, “What are you adding to your archives today?” That’s an interesting question–for all of us. The teacher meant what skills and knowledge the student was adding, and that certainly applies to everyone at any age, whether in or out of school. But it apples to more than knowledge.

Just like we archive files (or at least should in the name of organization if nothing else), everything we say and do goes into our personal archives. They become part of who we are. And, just as if we’re not careful to make sure not to archive viruses along with computer files, the negatives in our lives are archived right along with all the positive. Every time we’ve made someone else feel bad is saved for later. And, I believe, that “later” will be something negative toward us: the “what goes around comes around” phenomenon.

Sadly, we can’t run a virus cleaner on our personal archives and wash away all the negatives in one fell swoop. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do things to counteract the negative. The most obvious thing would be to apologize to those we’ve used to make us feel better by dragging them down. And, of course, we can always do more good overall. That can help make the negatives a small part of our personal archives.

Every day, try to add some new-to-you knowledge to your personal archive. And, try to add good deeds, good words, good thoughts to your personal archive as well.

So, what are you adding to your archive today?

Stop laughing.

Those who know me from my blogs and posts on social networking sites have heard that before. But this time I really mean it.

Aw, come on now. Stop laughing.

Yes, they’ve heard that before, too. And each time I’ve said or written it, I’ve honestly meant it. Unfortunately, like many plans, it got derailed. This time I feel it’s different. For some reason, I feel that I have no choice but to get organized. You see, my brain has been working overtime coming up with ideas. (A former employer told me that my brain was like an idea volcano–ideas were always spewing forth.) The problem is that it’s almost impossible to follow through on any of them without getting organized. If I don’t, they’ll just languish in my brain, leaving me frustrated, not to mention angry at myself.

These ideas are all over the place. There are writing projects, things I want to knit, things I want to design. There are, however, very few that actually pertain to my current career. Funny how that works. I think my first step will be to write down each idea and come up with an action plan for each project. Writing down these ideas will help clarify them in my mind. I may decide that some ideas are just not doable at this time. The key words in that sentence are “at this time.” You never know what the future may bring, so I seldom reject an idea out of hand. (Okay, I may have made an exception for becoming a supermodel, but the plan for a knitting empire is still out there.) Establishing an action plan, even just a list of steps, also helps me to establish a timeline. “Someday” and “sometime” are vague notions and really doesn’t help to get anything accomplished. Besides, the older I get, the fewer somedays and sometimes there are.

A byproduct of the timeline is that I will have prioritized items. I must admit that there are days when my paying work takes a backseat to the things I really want to do. For obvious reasons, I can’t let that happen–at least not often. If I have things prioritized, thanks to the timeline, I can schedule time in the day to work on each–or at least more than one–of them. I’ve tried to concentrate and work on just one thing a day, but I don’t seem to work at my optimum when I do that. I find it too easy to jump over to Twitter, Facebook, or Plurk.

I love electronic gadgets. In fact, I have an internalized belief that I need to have them all. Now. Yet, when it comes to making lists and action plans–and many other things–I’m a pen-and-paper kind of gal. There’s something about putting pen (in my case, a Pilot Precise V5) to paper that makes whatever I’m writing more tangible to me. (Funny, though, but when I write a book, article, or blog post, I always do it on the computer.) And the act of scribbling out or crossing off something is very cathartic to me. But, I know not everyone feels that way, and the important thing is to act, not what you use to complete that action.

My Saturdays are usually filled with knitting and bad movies. But, at least for part of the day, it will be list making and bad movies. Hey, I can’t change everything at once.

For the past several weeks, I’ve been working on a new project. It’s not exactly knitting related, though knitting does have an overall part to play. I mean really, did you think I couldn’t have knitting in it somewhere? As most of you know, I am a freelance author and editor. Of late, most of my work has been of the editing variety–except for Knitting Purls and my blogs, of course. Since I’d like to make writing a larger percentage of my income, I decided I should probably actually do so with the idea of selling it. And since I am also a publisher, I don’t have to worry about getting it published.

I have written or cowritten more than 30 books under my name or one of my pseudonyms. For the most part, they’ve been nonfiction. My new project, however, is fiction. And frankly, I’m getting really excited about it. I have all kinds of ideas about where I want to take this project, and it will be multimedia. At the moment, I’m thinking of a series of three books, but I reserve the right to change my mind and probably will–at least once.

Sometimes it seems as though any little thing can jump-start my creativity genes. As for this project, this picture played a large part in planting the germ for this idea. I’ve had this picture for years, at least 4. I’d go back and look at it on occasion, wondering what kind of story it would tell me. For whatever reason, I knew there was a story there, and if I was patient, it would let me in on its secret. I think it has; or at least, it’s let me in on part of it.

Because this is a multi-book project, I have to be able to really keep track of people and places. So, I’ve been drawing a map of the town. I can’t tell you how fun this has been. Of course, that’s part of my empire mentality, I’m sure. I try to remember to put my digital camera and camcorder in my bag when I’m out; the camera in my BlackBerry works in a pinch. If something catches my eye, I take a picture of it. That photo can inspire how a building or place will look.

One of the hardest things I’ve always found has been to name characters. Naming towns, streets, and businesses has proven no less difficult. As I’m driving, I often catch myself looking at street signs, store names, etc., trying to figure out what to name the animate and inanimate characters in my storyline. I love to look at the atlas, partly for names and partly to decide where I want my story to take place. For example, if I’m placing my fictional town in the Pacific Northwest, I need to know where in the PNW so I know what’s around it.

So, can any of this be translated to knitting? Of course it can. Take a look at nature. Let it be your inspiration for color selection, whether you’re dying yarn or fiber or picking colors for a knitting project. Do you wonder if a combination of colors would work together? Sure, you could hold up swatches or check it out on a color wheel, but why not look at nature? If they work there, they’ll work everywhere. But things around you can influence more than color. Take a look at building structures or nature. They can inspire your designs.

Take along a sketchbook or camera when you’re out. They don’t have to be anything fancy, just whatever works for you. You never know when inspiration can knock you up the side of your head.

I have a routine. Most weekday mornings begin with feeding the feline herd followed by coffee, knitting, and Morning Joe. I don’t agree with much of the political talk, and I really don’t like Mika. But, for whatever reason, I love the show. Especially with Mike Barnicle and Pat Buchanan are on together. Anyway, last Thursday they had a special program about the problems faced by the educational system. I only saw the first hour or so, but much of that portion dealt with how teachers, their union, school administration, and parents should work together for the benefit of the students. Especially since there are cities forced to close schools and others facing serious cutbacks.

As I sat there, watching the show, I recalled how much I had wanted to be a teacher. At that time, however, students were being discouraged from entering the profession because there was a glut of teachers. I let myself be sway away from teaching. (In case you’re interested, I majored in art history and museum studies. Oh yeh, there was a huge market for those. Insert sarcastic emoticon here.) I looked at the sock I was knitting and then it hit me: knitting could be a feasible–and relatively inexpensive–teaching tool.

I can see you all now, shaking your heads, thinking, Oh here she goes again, trying to relate knitting to life. Sure, I do tend to do that, and at first cast-on, it might seem as though using sock knitting as an educational tool is far-fetched–to say the least. But bear with me, and let your imagination think outside the knitting bag.

One area in which knitting can be used is math. Even if the pattern is designed to fit us perfectly, you have to (and you know you really should) knit a gauge swatch. If you don’t hit gauge, you have to try another combination of needle and yarn. You have to count. If you have to make adjustments, you’ll find yourself adding, subtracting, and perhaps multiplying and dividing. If you’re doing something Zimmermanesque, you may even find yourself working with proportions. And, should teachers want to delve into designing, well, math plays an integral part in that process.

Geography is another area in which one can use knitting. Yarns come from all over the world. Students can learn about the countries from which their yarns came and the animals that bore the yarn, some indigenous only to that country. And history. Knitting has a long and interesting history. Traced from its beginning until today, one can learn about economic history. The history of gender roles can also be explored through knitting, as well as the role class has played over time. For those interested in popular culture, knitters seem especially drawn to social media. Knitting is also showing up in movies and television programs. Yes, knitting is everywhere.

Perhaps most beneficial, knitting can help students learn about patience and perserverance.  Take my sock knitting, for example. I had so much trouble in the beginning. I was starting to doubt that I would ever be able to knit socks, especially since I have never been able to get the hang of knitting on DPNs. But, I eventually learned Magic Loop. But still, the cuff-down was very difficult for me. So, I learned to knit them toe-up. Now, cuff-down is a breeze for me. It took time and patience (the latter I really don’t have a lot of), but I figured it out.

Now I can hear you all now saying, “Well, that’s all well and good, but what about boys? They’re not going to want to knit.” And they might not–at first. But there are ways to present material to make it more appealing to boys. For example, when talking about sock knitting, phrase it in terms of building something, constructing something. You’ll also find it likely that this method would make it appeal to girls as well.

I wonder, however, if the atmosphere in many of today’s schools would make it impossible for knitting to be used as an educational tool in the classroom. After all, there are pointy sticks involved, and many schools must be cautious of anything that can possibly be used as a weapon. That is a sorry state of affairs.

But, using knitting as an educational tool could find students filled with a sense of accomplishment, something many often find difficult to achieve. And with that, the sky’s the limit.

Do you know that you have the power to build up someone or some idea? And do  you know you have the power to tear down people and ideas? You have the power to motivate people to take action or not to take action.

Yes, each of us possess the most powerful weapons in the world, weapons of mass destruction. Though politicians and defense contractors may want you to think that the most powerful weapons are either nuclear, atomic, or biological, but they are wrong. The most powerful weapons in the world are our words.

You may think I’m exaggerating ,and perhaps I am. But I think not. Many defense experts and historians will say that though a nuclear or biological of and atomic attack is possible, it’s highly unlikely because of the risk of retaliation. Yet, there seems to be no such aversion to holding a war of words.

Perhaps we don’t have a world platform, but each day, we hold the power to destroy individuals and ideas. I love the social networks, but sadly, some people have chosen to use these platforms as a way to tear down individuals trying to make a difference in the world, or at least in their lives and in the lives of their families. Imagine, if you will, that you’ve decided to design your own line of knitting patterns. That’s a big leap, and it lets you open for all kinds of comments. Or perhaps you’re offering a club, you know, like a sock club or pattern club. That’s a lot of work (ask me, I know), too, and like becoming a designer, it can be fraught with all kinds of problems, not all of the vendor’s making. Whether it’s an error in a pattern or a delayed shipment, it seems as though there is a stampede to forum and boards to complain and berate the individual in charge. Before long, the frenzy created in one place has spread to multiple sites. People who are not even involved seem to have no problem passing along details of the incident, often in a manner that soon resembles the game Telephone.

Don’t get me wrong. If there’s a problem with a pattern or shipment, the person affected has the right to complain. But, it appears as though the first response for many is to complain publicly, to hit the boards and forums with their complaints. What has happened to the courtesy of contacting the individual privately first and giving him or her the right to respond before telling the world that you’re not happy with someone? Of course, the subject of the complaint must respond to the complainer in a timely fashion. When someone has complained publicly, the subject of the complaint feels compelled to answer in kind. Sadly, that often seems only to escalate the problem rather than solve it. I applaud those who refuse to play the public blame game and deal only privately with the issue. Kudos also to those who then post that the issue has been resolved to everyone’s satisfaction.

And, of course, the person against whom the complaint is lodged should take whatever steps are necessary to avoid such problems. I’ve written about ways designers, for example, can lessen the possibility of errors. But even when precautions are made, things don’t always work out as planned.

Some people think that when they unfairly criticize someone in writing, it’s not as bad as when it’s done vocally. But they’re forgetting one important thing. Even if the criticism is done privately, in an e-mail, for example, written slams remain for the individual to read over and over again. Sure, the written messages can be thrown away or deleted, but many don’t. And, we all know that things we thought we’ve deleted have a tendency to show up elsewhere.

Put yourself in the place of the person with whom you have a problem. How would you want to be made to feel? If you’ve made an honest error, wouldn’t you rather be told of it privately? If you’ve had problems filling an order, wouldn’t you rather be told privately and, perhaps, given suggestions how to solve the problem? Imagine how you’d feel if this was your first efforts? Would you be inclined to try again?

I’m not saying you have no right to complain if you have a problem, but put yourself in the other person’s shoes before letting the words flow from your mouth or fingers. Keep in mind that your words–rightly or wrongly–could make someone give up a lifelong dream. Is it worth it to make you feel better? In the long run, who wins?