less than solitary: reconnecting with an old friend for a new project

Years ago, when I was young—wait. Was I ever young? Not that I can remember. I'll start again.

Reboot:

Books ago, I had the pleasure of working on a corporate fairy tale with my friend Matt Emmens, a book we called Zenobia: The Curious Book of Business. Zenobia, an Alice in Wonderland-like adventure through a dying (but then rejuvenated) corporation, ended up selling to a dozen foreign publishers. It broadened my collaboration with my husband, who created the book's fabulous illustrations. And it deepened my friendship with Matt, who had CEO'd many of the companies I've worked for through the years, but who I respect even more for his many passions and pursuits.

This past week, I had an excuse to again spend time talking with Matt as I continued work on a strange and percolating project. I asked Matt questions, and he summoned details. I asked for the sound of talk, and he recreated conversations. I sent him the chapter his knowledge had helped me write, and he sent back notes. You should consider. Drop the octagon. That would singular, not plural. If you're considering a night scene, consider this.

There's a lot of just plain hardship that goes along with writing. There's a lot of solitary. But when there's the chance to ask questions, go ask the questions. Your book will be better off. And so will you.

Speaking of less than solitary, in a few hours I'll be at Rosemont College for the annual Philadelphia Stories Push to Publish conference. First up for me (1:15), a memoir/nonfiction panel with my long-time friend Karen Rile and Anne Kaier. Second up (2:30), a marketing for published authors panel with another dear friend (Kelly Simmons) and Donna Galanti. From there, I'm rushing back home for a quick change and a nervous drive to a local stage, where I'll be dancing the cha cha with my husband.

I'm sleeping in tomorrow morning. Then I'll get up and work with a few new details dear Mr. Emmens just sent me.

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celebrating a good man in corporate America: Tom Spann

I've been in this consulting business for a long time now, and I've seen plenty of things. I've seen brilliant leaders be stripped of their influence by the envy of their peers. I've seen power abused, colleagues humiliated, inconsistency masquerade as strategy, a pale hand sweep impetuously across a desk, knocking considered work to the ground. I've seen absolute assurances vanish and ego dressed up in a suit. I've seen grown men and women make grown men and women cry.

But I've seen the good guys (and women), too. I've known them, worked with them, valued them deeply. One of those good guys is a man named Tom Spann, whom I met at a company called Astra Merck. He was an Andersen/Accenture consultant with a full-time desk at the pharma company. I was a sixty-hour a week freelancer who wrote the company's news magazines, launch meeting scripts, best-practice reports, executive speeches, history book, value propositions, and most anything else that required letters, commas, question marks. When I was lucky I got to collaborate with Tom. He was a first-class sort. He asked questions; he listened. I never heard him raise his voice. Like every executive I've truly respected, his breadth of knowledge and his range of curiosity went far beyond the immediate matters at hand. He'd put forth an idea and in his quiet way ask, And if we were to move that idea forward, what would you do?

In the years since Astra Merck, Tom has gone on to build a company with his friend John Rollins. It's called Accolade, its focus is on both reducing health care costs and improving the health care experience for employees of large companies, and it has morphed from an idea discussed over coffee to a thriving mid-size company. The success of this company is no surprise to anyone who knows Tom (or John, which I also luckily do). Also ranking in the no surprise category (except that I had to find this out on my own since Tom Spann is incapable of boasting) is that, for the last two years, Tom has been named a top leader in the Philadelphia region—first in the small workplaces category and then in the midsize workplace company.

The survey asked employees to respond to this simple but overwhelmingly telling prompt: I have confidence in the leader of this organization. Then it gave the employees room to expound. Tom was reported to be accessible, caring, approachable, transparent, a man who doesn't hide in the corner office. He was known by his employees, in other words, as he is known to his friends. Think about how beautiful that is. And how frustratingly rare.

Several books ago I collaborated with Matthew Emmens, another truly decent guy, on a corporate fairytale called Zenobia: The Curious Book of Business (with illustrations by William Sulit). We created a character (named after my first Penn student, Moira) and led her through a maze of broken corporate things. She'd only survive the Alice in Wonderland madness of Zenobia if she could remain uncorrupted—if she could assert her intelligence, morality, curiosity, and perseverance, and, by example, change all that had gone wrong at this lurching, gossip-driven, demoralizing, and unnecessarily complicated company. She had (spoiler alert!) what it takes, in the end. She opened the windows, let in the light.

Tom Spann has been letting the light in his entire career long. His success is an object lesson in all that good can do.

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Zenobia, the Dutch version.

When your heart has been pounding, like my heart has been pounding, when you're averaging five corporate stories a day and still behind, when the Zumba ladies ask you if you are a size bigger than you thought you were (could this be from sitting on your bum all day?), you see the mail truck drive up and you run.  First, to get that dress size down.  Second, for some relief.

Today, my running relief revealed a package that contained the Dutch edition (Sdu Uitgevers) of ZENOBIA, the corporate fable I penned with Matt Emmens, a good friend through all these years and now the chairman of the board of Shire, the international bio-pharma company.  The illustrations (my husband's work) look exactly the same as they do in the English-language version.

The words?  Not so much.

Matt, did you ever think we'd be so multiply translated?  I hope this makes you happy today.

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Dr. Radway's Sarsaparilla Resolvent: A Partial Cover Reveal

I've worked with my artist husband on two previous books—Ghosts in the Garden (New World Library) and Zenobia: The Curious Book of Business (Berrett-Koehler).  This past year, we've been collaborating on a third—Dr. Radway's Sarsaparilla Resolvent, an illustrated teen novel that features Philadelphia's own Baldwin Locomotive Works, Eastern State Penitentiary, the great Schuylkill River, a blowzy named Pearl, and my hero George Childs, among other places and souls.  It features, as well, the odd tonics and medicines of the time—the strange promises and possible powers of herbal concoctions and flowering vines.  William of Dangerous Neighbors fame stands at the center of this novel.  Two twins waft through.

This morning, my husband has completed the design of the book's cover (he has also created nearly a dozen interior illustrations), and while I cannot unveil the whole, I am happy to share this small corner of an image that perfectly captures 1871 and, at the same time, suggests the story's very modern spirit. 

I am ridiculously happy about all of this.  Not just that the book will exist (spring 2013).  But that my fictional William was rendered by my real-life William, and that a very kind press is giving both a home.

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Zenobia: The Curious Book of Business

This morning I'm returning to a book I wrote with Matthew Emmens, a long-time friend and much-loved executive who was the CEO of Shire Plc when we launched this project and is now the CEO of Vertex Pharmaceuticals (and chair of Shire).  We called the book Zenobia: The Curious Book of Business, and we sub-titled it A Tale of Triumph over Yes-Men, Cynics, Hedgers, and other Corporate Killjoys (Berrett-Koehler Publishers).  We asked William Sulit to illustrate it.  We were delighted when the book was translated into Portuguese (Brazil), Portuguese (Portugal), Chinese Complex, Chinese Simplified, Dutch, Arabic, Korean, Spanish, and Italian, and created as an English Reprint in India.

We continue to hear from readers of Zenobia—continue to be told stories about real-live corporate misadventures that might have been used as grist for this book (enough so that I sometimes fantasize about writing a Volume 2).  The other day I happened upon this Zenobia review, and because the reviewer—an unnamed reader for Soundview Executive Book Summaries—so thoroughly understood our purpose, I share it in total here. 

down the corporate rabbit hole
Teaming a CEO with a poet to collaborate on a business book might sound like an “Alice in Wonderland” proposition. But the result, Zenobia: The Curious Book of Business by Matthew Emmens, CEO of the $14 billion Shire Pharmaceuticals, and award-winning poet and author Beth Kephart, is a business fable that is as inspiring as it is curious.

Zenobia is the tale of job applicant Moira. Bored with her current position, she decides to answer an intriguing want ad. The ad brings Moira to Zenobia, a once-mighty company, now fallen into neglect and disrepair and bogged down in its way of doing business. To fulfill her mission, Moira must find Room 133A by 9 a.m. –– not an easy task, considering Zenobia’s current state: “There was, to begin, no apparent way up. The doors of the elevators had been sealed long ago. The stairs zinged this way and that, crossed over and through, circled back and endlessly in.”

Zenobians
Moira’s quest to find Room 133A brings her into contact with the denizens of Zenobia. Along the way, Moira meets several archetypical characters representing the worst of those who populate the business world. To reach her destination, Moira must not only navigate the confusing structure that represents the company itself, but also contend with such employees as Hedger, a man who avoids giving a straight answer at any cost; Trenchy, a woman so confined to her own tasks that she has no idea what her colleagues are doing; and Stomper, a cynical killjoy who would like nothing more than to see Moira fail.

Lighting the Way
In each of the book’s 13 chapters, the authors detail another step on Moira’s journey. Each step illustrates a basic principle for success, such as “Conceive a Plan; Pursue It,” “Prepare for Ridicule” and “Seek the Unlikely Alliance.” As the book progresses, we see Moira succeed because she refuses to be dragged down by the negative aspects of Zenobia. She forges ahead, relying on her talent, intelligence and courage to identify opportunities and solutions to find Room 133A.

But this story is not just Moira’s. As the heroine fights her way through the quagmire that surrounds her, the authors show how her actions inspire many of the Zenobians to not only follow her, but to begin forging their own ways ahead to success: “What she saw just then was even far more dazzling than the lambent atmosphere. For at the end of the kite tail, on the rungs of the ladder, in the spaces between things, against the warp of the wood, she saw a rising stream of Zenobians … They were making the journey for and with one another, showing each other the way.”

A Deceptively Simple Tale
Zenobia is an engrossing read that provides readers with honest enjoyment. The concepts it presents are often astonishing in their simplicity. Logically, we all understand that in order to succeed we must first have a plan and then be prepared to follow it. Most of us can expound on the virtue of being a good listener. However, the authors reveal the importance of these concepts not as declamations from business gurus but rather as lessons from an engaging heroine on a unique journey.

Zenobia is a book for anyone who has lost his or her way in the business world, who feels stalled or who just needs a little inspiration. Moira’s story is a reminder of what can be achieved in business and in life when we aren’t afraid to take risks and show some courage.

For those of you feeling stalled or in need of inspiration (or psychic companionship), Zenobia can be ordered here. 

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Altogether now

There are, it sometimes seems, not even six degrees of separation in the writing world.  Today, during Alumni Day at Kelly Writers House (University of Pennsylvania), I shared this moment with the tremendous KWH deputy in charge Al Filreis (I would take one of his extraordinary classes, but I'm afraid I'm not quite smart enough), Alice Elliott Dark (whose short story, "In the Gloaming," was selected by John Updike as one of the best of the last century, and who read from it beautifully today), and Moira Moody, a writer and almost bride, who was Al's student before she was mine, and, after Al and I sent her on her way, a student of Alice's at the Rutgers-Newark Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing program created by none other than our mutual friend, Jayne Anne Phillips.

But that's not at all.  Dear Moira was also the inspiration for "Moira" (is inspiration too broad a word for such a flat-out stealing of a name and persona?)—the star of the zany corporate fable, Zenobia, that I penned with then-Shire CEO, Matt Emmens.  

Altogether, then, on a gorgeous meander of a day.

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