Mind Game Monday: Running From the Mirror
Feb 15th, 2016 by Kimberly
Every origin story is unique.
I know. Hello, Mistress of the Obvious. Of course every person has their own story of how they arrived where they are. Different personalities, different upbringing, it couldn’t possibly turn out the same. Sometimes, though, you hear a tale that underscores how disparate those stories can be.
Such was the case with Howard Shulman.
I met this remarkable man on Saturday, at the Southern California Writers’ Conference in San Diego. This is the third or fourth SCWC conference I’ve been to over the years, and I enjoy them for many reasons, but mostly because of their one-on-one sessions with industry professionals. For $50.00 each, SCWC offers the chance to have an agent, editor or published author read twenty pages of your manuscript in advance and go over it with you in a private ten-minute session. If another conference offers this, I haven’t found it. Most offer you the chance to pitch your work, but only this one has them read it in advance so you can get a professional opinion.
Saturday afternoon, I stood in the banquet room lobby, waiting for my session with an editor. A man smiled at me and said, “Don’t be nervous. You’ll be fine. They’re only editors.”
I smiled back and said I was okay. Like the rest of us, he wore an SCWC badge, and I recognized his name from the conference agenda. “You’re our speaker tomorrow,” I said. “I’m looking forward to hearing what you have to say.”
He looked a bit nervous and said, “We’ll see,” or something equally self-deprecating.
Later on in the day, I passed by him on the way to a session and he asked, “How did it go?”
I smiled and said it had been fine, which didn’t feel like the truth, but there wasn’t time for a longer explanation. By the time I heard him speak the next day, I realized “fine” actually described the session pretty well, so it worked out okay.
The next morning, I didn’t feel like being up and around by 8:00am, but whatever sadist set up the schedule picked that hour for the morning’s lecture, so up I got. Good thing. My life hasn’t been a lot of fun for the last couple of months, and his talk didn’t fix that, but it certainly reminded me that a lot of people have to deal with worse.
Howard Shulman started life as a healthy baby. At the ripe old age of three days, he contracted a staph infection in his face. He did eventually recover, but not before the infection ate away his nose, lips, an eyelid, and a few other parts of his face. When his parents found out the extent of the damage, they left him at the hospital to become a ward of the state. For the next couple of decades, he withstood bullying, nomadic schooling and endless medical procedures. He worked in New Jersey as a dishwasher and New Mexico as a marijuana smuggler (cue the gasps of poor naive writer types). He owned a nightclub, made contact with his biological mother, and married the love of his life.
You can, and I hope you will, read the rest of his story in his memoir, Running from the Mirror. Full disclosure, I haven’t finished the book yet. Not because it isn’t gripping, but because I just bought it yesterday. When he told us about his biological parents, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one in the room thinking, “Wow – special place in hell for you folks.” This gentle man, who clearly wrestled with the issue his whole life, urged us to consider the matter from their point of view, how overwhelming it all must have been. I know he’s right. My heart just couldn’t stand the thought of a little kid having to endure everyone’s stares and ridicule, to say nothing of 100 plastic surgeries (that’s not an exaggeration), without the people who were supposed to love him no matter what.
And then I thought about how much less demanding circumstances have reduced me to a sobbing mess in the corner, barely capable of taking care of her cat.
The fact that someone else has a huge struggle doesn’t make my life better, especially. It doesn’t heal my grandmother, it doesn’t get my books published, it doesn’t salve over the third-degree burns on my heart. But it does remind me that there are mountains in this world that I have not been forced to climb. I like to think I would have stood by that tiny baby, given him the love that he so very much deserved and needed, but no one ever asked me to prove it. And why am I falling apart over so much less, if I could have handled all that?
Judgment is a funny thing. It backfires. The more harshly we judge everyone around us, the more fiercely we punish ourselves for our own failings. I wouldn’t blame Howard a bit for judging his parents, but I have no business doing so. The upside of this, no one else gets to decide how much blame and shame I deserve for the things I’ve messed up.
No, I choose to follow Howard’s example: try your best to see things from someone else’s point of view, let the past go, and be proud of what you have to offer the world.
After he finished the speech, I asked him if he’d be available later to sign books. He looked like he never imagined anyone would ask such a thing, and shyly said he’d sign my copy if I wanted. I raced up to the bookstore, bought a copy and was back with it and a pen in less than three minutes. He signed it and asked me what I wrote, offering me encouragement. After finishing the inscription, he handed the book back to me and smiled.
“If they thought the marijuana smuggling was something, wait till they get a load of the money laundering.”
Got to love writers’ conferences. You never know who you’ll meet there.
You can find Running from the Mirror at howardshulmanbook.com, Powell’s, Amazon, or ask your local bookstore to order it. Let me know what you think.
Kimberly has to go read now. She hasn’t gotten to the money laundering part yet and she is totally curious.
Thanks for stopping by www.kimberlyemerson.com! Come back soon. I already miss you.
Great perspective.
Kimberly, thanks, as always for your insight. I particularly loved the line, “…try your best to see things from someone else’s point of view, let the past go, and be proud of what you have to offer the world.” Just yesterday I received a nasty email from an ex-friend (after years & years of trying to see her point of view and failing.) I decided that I was done. Not all friendships can or should be salvaged. I ripped up the email and promptly burned it in a bowl on my back step. That was my “reply.” My daughter, home from school because of the holiday, had never seen me do this! It became a teachable moment to not let friends (boy or girl) stomp on your self-esteem. Very cathartic!
He sounds adorable- wish I had met him. I am putting “Running From The Mirror” on my must read list.
P.S. Remember to review it- it will help him!
Wonderfully written insight, I completely enjoyed the read tonight.
Kimberly, I’m humbled by your article. Thanks so much for attending my talk at the conference and spreading the word about my book. It was a pleasure meeting you. Wishing you all the best on your writing journey.
Good post.
One of the only things I remember our rather lackluster priest ever saying was “you never know what cross another person has to bear just by looking at them”.
Sometimes you might get an idea, as in Mr. Shulman’s case, but to learn how he handled his life is quite inspiring.
Sometimes I feel sorry for myself when I think of some of the crud I’ve been through, even though I try hard not to. Then after sulking for a bit, words my father said to me come echoing back in my head. This was one of his favorites: I cried because I had no shoes until I saw a man who had no feet.
Life can be beautiful if we work at it hard enough. Live and love.