Law Letters

The Lost Art Of The Round Robin Letter

The following is an introduction I wrote for Ellen Gray Massey's lastest book, OUR ROBIN IS READ: VOICES FROM THE WAYSIDE:

The twenty-first century brought on a revolution in how we communicate. The social media and mobile phones, wirelessly connected to the Internet, have enabled instant global communication. This luxury is easily taken for granted, so much that the modern generations barely remember what it was like not to have a cell phone, and to leave home without it draws an immediate sense of insecurity. One can only imagine how someone from the Greatest Generation feels as a witness to this sudden phenomenon, when for the better part of their lives written communication took the form of letters via U. S. Mail. Yes, they had the telephone, but we may forget that long distance used to have charges by the minute so that was deemed too impractical, too expensive. Letters written to family or close friends often took on a system unknown to generations today, and that was the round-robin letter.

I have known Ellen Gray Massey going on twenty years, but my knowledge of her personal life was very limited until recently. After publishing her memoir, Footprints in the Ozarks, I discovered so much more than the writer I had known. When she had sent me the manuscript my initial expectations was to learn more about the modern history of the Ozarks, because to those of us who know Ellen, that was her specialty. Little did I know, however, that I was to be led down a personal journey of happiness and hardship, one that brings tears of both sadness and joy. Naturally, when I learned more about Ellen, I was indeed interested in learning about her seven siblings. When she told me about their system of round-robin letters from the 1940’s through the 1970’s I was certainly intrigued.

I was already somewhat familiar with her brother, Ralph Gray, after having read and published some of his poetry a decade earlier. But little did I know the true depth and intelligence of Ralph Gray, and then to be introduced to the rest of the family was more than a treat. I became absorbed in the personalities as well as the bond each of these siblings had for each other. Though I had known Ellen grew up in Washington D. C., and spent her summers on a Missouri farm called “The Wayside,” here was an inside look at the knowledge and interests of eight young people in those diverse locations during the 1940’s, the direction each of their lives and careers took them, and how they stayed in touch through the round-robin system.

If this communication had taken place today, and if I were a part of their circle, I would imagine experiencing it on a forum like Facebook. I would see the musings of Ralph Gray, the National Geographic writer and editor, the contemplations of Miriam Gray, the University of Texas instructor, or the adventures of Vernon Gray, the research scientist for NASA. There would be their date-stamped daily posts of both work and family related situations, all next to a thumb-sized photograph, one right after the other. That’s how it’s done today, quickly and simply. But in the 1940’s, 50’s, 60’s, the package of eight letters that made its circle from sibling to sibling, sometimes took weeks, and sometimes as long as a year to make the round.

Today, when we get an e-mail message or notification of a posting, it’s part of the ho-hum drudgery of everyday living. But to receive a package of round-robin letters, and never knowing when to expect their arrival, would have been like a Christmas gift. This collection, however, is more than just an inside look at a family communication, it is also a representation of the times and a history. There is an inside look at politics and the science of space exploration, which we all know faced groundbreaking moments in those years. We also have an interesting glimpse into the career of a homemaker, a duty that was taken quite seriously then, much more so than it is in today’s service industry of working mothers and single parent families.

Personal accounts are rarely published for mass distribution, unless, of course, they are from the Kennedys or some wildly famous family with a household name. But as a writer as well as a publisher, I have learned that some of the greatest historical novelists and historians of our time found personal writings such as these to be the most helpful in their research and they sought them out more than any other books of an era. The great best-selling author Louis L’Amour collected books of this sort, especially diaries and journals, to help him in the formation of his characters for his novels. His belief, as is mine, is that our characters become more true to the times with this type of information at hand.

To have come across this collection of round-robin letters is, to me, like striking gold, and I am delighted to be able to share the wealth of this discovery with the reading public. Ellen Gray Massey is to be commended for her foresight as to the value of these letters, and for her work in transferring them to digital format so that they may be shared with the world. This round-robin is truly about to be read.

Our Robin Is Read: Voices From The Wayside is available in paperback and eBook formats.

Steven Law is the author of Yuma Gold (Berkley, 2011) and The True Father (Goldminds, 2008). Visit his website at www.stevenlaw.com.

The Value of Silence and Compassion

Yes, it’s true, that the First Amendment does offer us freedom of speech. We can speak openly about pretty much whatever we want, with the exception of libel, without legal repercussion. Doesn’t matter if it’s about politics, religion, business, sex, etc., it’s all fair game. That doesn’t mean, however, that anyone will be immune to social repercussions.

This has been a big topic on the world stage lately after an amateur filmmaker, with Coptic Christian beliefs, released a film poking fun at the Islamic prophet, Mohamed. As we all know, and certainly the filmmaker knew, such rhetoric inside the Muslim community is punishable only by death. It doesn’t matter how extreme that may be, or how anyone else feels about it, it is a matter of how they feel, and they’re not American.  Step foot into their world, and I assure you the Bill of Rights won’t protect you.

Author Salman Rushdie has been facing the same kind of backlash for his book The Satanic Verses ever since its release in 1988. The result was an Islamic fatwā which ordered his death, and as of late, the bounty is now set at $3.3 million. The British, Indian author, now living on American soil in New York City, has been living under police protection ever since.

Though it was his right to write and publish the book, as it was the right of the filmmaker to make the controversial video, it was also their right to keep their mouths shut, and they are reaping the consequences for not doing so.  Rushdie is not taking the threat seriously, which surprises me, because all we have to do is look at what happened at the American Embassy in Egypt to know that the Islamic communities do take it seriously.

We don’t have to be on the world stage to realize consequences for what we say or create. From our first social experiences as children, to present day, we have all learned that at times it was probably better that we not ignite, or not respond. Yeah, maybe that girl is wearing an ugly dress, but is it important that all your friends know your feelings? Very few have the guts to tell anyone directly how they feel, they usually spread it via malicious gossip, which is a weak, cowardly approach.

We have all experienced incidents like this over our lifetime, regardless of what painful end we are on. It doesn’t matter whether you start it, or weather you’re on the receiving end, it is always painful to either party. I say this because when someone starts malicious talk, especially the kind that is somewhat slanted and magnified to make it worse than it really is, then I will revert to an old saying that I like to use: karma is a bitch.

As I got older, through college, and out into the business world, I experienced a lot of this type of behavior that was truly no better than when we were in junior high school. It doesn’t matter whether the person is at entry level, or a CEO of a Fortune 500 company, they all do it. I feel lucky to have had some good examples, even some good teaching from mentors, on how to handle these types of situations, and the best advice was not to participate in it, even if it’s about you.

After every experience I had like this the better I got at handling it. I’m not saying that it’s not hurtful, annoying, or that it doesn’t anger me, but experience has taught me that keeping silent is the best remedy of all. The most hurtful part is that we usually end up losing so-called friends. No, they weren’t our friends after all, but we may have thought there was something promising for the future.

I have read a lot of biographies of successful people, and quite often they will write about this very issue. Almost always they will be consistent with remaining calm, professional, and staying out of it. This is certainly true in personal situations. In business situations, sometimes there is a requirement to respond, and in doing so we are very careful to do so in a professional, non-threatening manner.

This reminds me of the numerous accounts in the arts where I have witnessed authors, musicians, actors, and the like, that were somewhat one-hit wonders because of the way they worked with people. Some like to call it “drama,” which in many cases the most successful people I know try to avoid. Making way into the world of the professional arts is not near as difficult as staying in it. Once they break that barrier there are even more obstacles to overcome, and if they are more emotional than professional then it’s unlikely their success will last.

Several years back, when Jay Leno took over the tonight show, there were things going on behind his back that he knew could destroy his chances at keeping the job.  Rather than engage in the drama, Jay went straight to the source, the one who had the answers and could make the decisions, and worked things out. The result? Well, after all those years he is still on the air.

There have been three situations in the last year where people have tried to destroy my career. For whatever reasons they felt the need to do so, all three of them could have saved a lot of heartache for themselves as well as me if they would have just called me first and expressed their concerns.  Instead, they made their judgment, based on hearsay, and went about spreading the rumors and creating a negative image about me and what I do. Again, they never, ever talked to me first.

When these rumors got around to the people that DO know me, and knew better, they called me. “Have you heard what so-and-so is saying? What’s that all about?” They cared enough to inquire about it before they responded or said anything, which goes to show that the person that starts things usually doesn’t care, and usually has self-serving reasons for doing so. The same with those who participate and take stock in the rumors, and have never heard my side of the story.

I am not surprised to know that all three cases are part of the same circle, just different ring leaders. Two of the three situations are over with, and I am standing just as tall, if not taller, than before. The third was even more damaging, and is yet to come to a close, but I assure you I will not be taken down by this. Everything I started in my career is going stronger than ever, and I credit it to keeping my nose to the grindstone and avoiding the senseless, pointless drama that can do nothing more than hold me back.

I have to make mention of the use of social media in these types of situations. Because of smart phones, tablets, or anything mobile that is connected to the Internet, we are in a communication revolution. What this means is that we communicate faster than ever before, and almost anything can become “live” in a nanosecond.  Because of this, a lot of what we say or do online can’t be undone, and if we don’t take time to think about things before we post or hit send, it can be quite harmful to others and ourselves.

Facebook can be useful, but in many cases it’s just as useless and counterproductive. People use Facebook for these social games they play with other people, and like any other medium of communication it’s something not to take part in. The most successful people I know are not on Facebook, or if they are, they are not on there very much. I limit my time on all social media to just a few minutes each day, and most of that is on my business page. I used it more while I was on tour, but much less while I’m at home. My books are not going to write themselves.

First and foremost, I think that we have to understand why people say the things they do to help us realize why we don’t do the same thing. The martyrs of our history, which go back more than two millennia, who lost their lives standing up for free speech, did so for the benefit of the human race. Some will argue the value of the Coptic filmmaker’s work, or Salman Rushdie’s book, but few will disagree that they didn’t do it for attention to themselves, or their own personal gain, instead of the greater good. 

It’s the same for all expressions that are hurtful in nature and handled inappropriately, they did it for attention.  They could have thought about the greater whole instead of themselves, and found themselves in a much better eye of those who chose not to take part or respond. That, my current and former friends, would have been exercising their freedom of silence, and a true ability to care about other people. That’s the path I choose, and I hope you will too.

Steven Law is the author of Yuma Gold (Berkley, 2011) and The True Father (Goldminds, 2008). Visit his website at www.stevenlaw.com.

 

The Power Of An Empty Chair

Long before Clint Eastwood delivered his controversial improv at the Republican National Convention, or the buzz of “Eastwooding” began, there has been and empty chair in my house that is much more than just a “conversation” piece, and the former inhabitants more than just imaginative.

Most of my readers know that my pen name, Law, came from my maternal grandmother. When my grandmother was only five years-old, her own mother passed away, and since her father didn’t feel he could provide proper care for her and her two siblings, they were left to be raised by her grandparents. Her grandfather had a chair that she loved to sit in, and God only knows the things she learned or thought about while sitting in that chair, but more so, I am confident that my great-great-grandfather read some fantastic news stories while reading his newspaper in it.

It is possible that in that chair he learned of the panic in 1929 that began the Great Depression, something that would have affected them greatly since they owned and operated a general store. He likely listened to Roosevelt on the radio, maybe the comedy of Amos and Andy, or the Big Band music of Artie Shaw.

My grandma’s uncle Otis was the first to inherit the chair, and the picture I have here is of him sitting in it, in his favorite spot next to his radio. The little girl in the picture is one of my mother’s first cousins, which would date this photo in the early 1950s. Having learned about Otis and his interests, I’m quite certain that he listened to a lot of baseball games on that radio while sitting in the chair—perhaps he heard the play by play of the St. Louis Cardinals and Stan Musial as they won the 1942 World Series.

Otis died in 1963, and though I’m not sure how it worked out precisely, somehow my grandma Law inherited the chair. As a child I remember seeing the chair in the old farmhouse.  Not considered an antique, but a regular part of the living room furniture, it was used for family and company. Though I can’t remember specifically my grandmother reading to me in this chair, I’m quite sure it was in the same room when she did.

My grandma died in 1983, and several years after that my grandfather gave the chair to my mother.  To her it was an heirloom and an antique, and was very proud of it. The cushion had been recovered from its original leather to a gold tweed upholstery, and it was part of my mom’s decorative furniture for several years—never used, but sat empty and only to be admired by its appearance.

I loved the chair, for its style, appearance, and nostalgia, so I was very pleased when my mother gave it to me. I never intended to use it, only for it to sit empty and to decorate my home. But it was in bad need of a new finish, and I wanted to recover the cushion back to leather. My mom agreed to help me, and so before taking it to my home we stripped and refinished it ourselves, and my mom reupholstered the cushion. When done I couldn’t have been more pleased with the results.

But in my house it sat, an empty chair, except when one of my cats or my dog took the notion to lay in it for a nap. On occasion, when my parents would visit, my mom would sit in the chair, maybe to absorb some of that nostalgic energy, or more likely to admire our work of restoration. I certainly loved having the chair for all those reasons.

Not long ago I was reading about Louis L’Amour’s claim that he “could write anywhere with his typewriter balanced on his knees.” I thought I should try to do something similar, and when passing through my living room I saw the chair and it hit me: I should write a novel in that chair.

After all, I write under my grandmother’s name, and it belonged to her family.  What another great tribute, I thought, and it would also give that particular book a special, personal contribution.  So I committed to it, and when I started writing The Bitter Road, it was with my laptop balanced on my knees, in that once empty chair.  Though I am still working on the novel as I write this, I can assure you that every single word has, and will be written in that chair. 

And yes, even this blog post is being written in that chair. 

One might wonder if it’s comfortable, and I am amazed at just how comfortable it is. It’s really no different than my office chair, which is designed after the old style wooden office chairs on caster wheels. Though I’m not convinced it’s something I would want to write in full time, it’s definitely fun to do as a tribute.

Now as for having conversations with this empty chair, that has never happened. I do think, however, that sometimes the chair talks to me.  Not literally, of course, but spiritually.  Five generations of my family have owned this chair, and it’s my belief that it is on an incredible journey, and my contribution may only be a short chapter of where it has been and what is yet to come, but before my time is up, I may have to do some Eastwooding of my own. That’s right, I can’t bear the thought of saying goodbye to the chair without having a nice talk. We might even talk about politics.

Steven Law is the author of Yuma Gold (Berkley, 2011) and The True Father (Goldminds, 2008). Visit his website at www.stevenlaw.com.