Ode to a Mentor (or Letter from the Grave)

Peter Dean Lakin

1942-2010

This morning I’m remembering the life of Peter Dean Lakin, the guy who inspired my career in broadcasting more than 40 years ago. Pete died suddenly of a heart attack recently. He was only 68.

At the time of his death, Pete was the news director at Magnum Broadcasting, a consortium of 10 radio stations in central Wisconsin.

I met Pete Lakin 50 years ago when he was at the beginning of his radio career and I was still a prepubescent kid whose voice had yet to change.

In about 1960 or maybe 1961, Pete was the new, hip DJ on WLCX radio (AM 1490) in La Crosse, Wisconsin. His show, "Nightbeat," was on from 9 to midnight. One afternoon after school when I was 10 or 11, I was riding bikes with one of my buddies, Jim Davison (who later became an ophthalmologist). We decided on a whim to stop at the WLCX transmitter on Lang Drive by the La Crosse River, knock on the door, and see if anyone would show us around.

To our astonishment, Pete Lakin answered our knock. We were stunned. Here was our hero standing before us. He didn't look at all the way he sounded. I'd pictured a skinny, 40-year-old guy with a long neck and a huge Adam's apple. Instead, we were greeted by a handsome, 20-year-old kid with a pompadour of dark, slick hair piled above his forehead.

Pete had a big smile and rosy cheeks. As I remember, he wore a short-sleeved red shirt. (This was a pivotal day in my life, so I guess my memories are more vivid than I thought.) Anyway, he invited us inside -- my first glimpse behind the scenes of a radio station.

The place was a dump, but I was enthralled. The entryway doubled as a studio from which "Vox Pop," - a political call-in show - was broadcast. To our left was the room where a clattering UPI teletype machine unscrolled the news of the moment. (To watch was a mesmerizing experience.)

Pete was there alone running the board. He took us into the control room -- a surprisingly cramped, dimly-lit, inner sanctum where all the magic emanated. Back then, it was block programming, so he was spinning what are called MOR (middle of the road) records like Montavani -- sugary-sweet easy listening music.

Jim and I stood behind Pete, watching over his shoulder as he potted down the audio of the turntable as the song was ending, cleared his throat elaborately, then flipped a switch that keyed his microphone. Then he spoke in the honey-familiar voice we all knew so well -- but this time I was WATCHING. Amazing!

Jim and I must have stayed at least half an hour - maybe more. We wrote down several musical requests which Pete read over the air later that night on "Nightbeat." It was the first time I'd ever heard my name on the radio.

For the next several years, I was a regular visitor to the studio. I'd call first and ask if I could come and watch him work. He taught me all kinds of little broadcasting tips. The one I remember best: "Always have something cued up." (It's also a metaphor for living, I've discovered.)

Pete was always generous with his time and encouraging. On two occasions, he allowed me to be a "Guest Teen DJ" on "Nightbeat" -- reading commercials, giving the weather forecast, introducing records.

It changed the course of my life.

Until that time, I was seriously pursuing a career in law. My dad was a lawyer and we were going to go into practice together, then my plan was to use law as a stepping stone into politics. But radio was always my passion -- and remains my first love. Gradually, however, partly because of Vietnam and Watergate, I became cynical about politics, and was drawn more toward journalism, where, 40+ years later, I’m an editor on CNN’s “The Situation Room with Wolf Blitzer” in Washington, D.C.

Pete and I remained in touch only sporadically through the years. I would have liked to have kicked back and had a couple beers with him and gotten to know him adult-to-adult instead of from the perspective of idolizing kidhood, but it was never to be.

Yesterday morning, when I was purging an accumulation of e-mails from an address I hardly ever check, I came across a lengthy note from Pete written to me two months before his death.

Here are excerpts:

“Whenever I see a picture of you, or read something you have written, I'm always reminded of the great times we all had back in the early 60's at WLCX...in the swamp...on Lang Drive.

“I remember when your mom would drop you off early in the afternoon...usually on Sundays...and you'd stay until around 5 until she'd call and say she was on her way to get you. I remember that my Sunday shift ended at 6 and you always tried to get her to let you stay that extra hour. I don't think you ever came out on top in those discussions….

“You were always my favorite….I have kids ask me from time-to-time how they can get into radio….I ALWAYS tell them about you and that path you took to a highly successful job at CNN...starting just hanging out at a local radio station in La Crosse and watching the local DJ and then moving forward from there….

“Actually, my news center in Poynette is filled with pictures of my favorite people and three of them are of you….You're one of the success stories I share with kids who want to get into broadcasting….

“I still feel badly about not being able to get together with you when you were in La Crosse a dozen, or so, years ago. I've never had anything bother me for so long....I've shared my feelings of guilt with my son probably 50 times. I do hope you understand.

“Anyway, John....I'm delighted with your success as an author and at CNN and I'm proud to call you my friend.”

Rest in peace, Peter Dean Lakin, and thanks for everything.

Hope Can Spring from Tragedy

There's something personal I'd like to share with you: Several years ago, my sister killed herself. It was the worst day of my life. But hope can spring from tragedy. Dr. Reef Karim, a Los Angeles psychiatrist on the faculty of the UCLA Neuropsychiatric Institute, interviewed me about suicide -- a theme that runs throughout my mystery/suspense novel "Fast Track," drawn, in part, from my sister's suicide.

The interview is now available as a podcast sponsored by The Depression is Real Coalition, a group dedicated to helping people who suffer from depression. Here's the link to our conversation: http://depressionisreal.org/podcast/archive_2008_01.php.

It's program #34. I hope you'll give it a listen.

Feel free to pass this along to anyone else in your life who you feel might be encouraged by the interview.

Thanks!

John DeDakis
CNN Senior Copy Editor
("The Situation Room with Wolf Blitzer")

Author, FAST TRACK
(hardcover: ISBN 1-59507-094-X)
(paperback: ISBN 1-59507-102-4)

web site: http://www.johndedakis.com/

1959 Fatal Crash Leads to Novel

On the night of December 20, 1959 – fifty years ago today -- I was sitting in the left front seat of the Vista-Dome car of the Burlington Zephyr passenger train as it hurtled through northern Illinois on its way from Chicago toward my hometown of La Crosse, Wisconsin.

The engineer would later tell a coroner’s jury that he was going 90 miles an hour (legal at the time) as we rounded a gentle curve at the tiny town of Chadwick.

From my vantage point in the darkened dome car near the front of the train, I could see the locomotive’s searchlight slice through the darkness, sweeping the tracks that stretched ahead of us. Suddenly, off to my left, I saw a car speeding toward a crossing we were approaching. The car looked like a 1949 Chevy, distinctive because of its sloped rear end. A split second later, I lost sight of the car as it went in front of the train.

I heard a bang, the train shuddered, and debris rained onto the Plexiglas dome, cracking the window I’d been peering through. I ducked, then scrambled down the narrow stairway to the dome car’s lower level where I told my dad and the conductor what I’d just witnessed.

I was nine years old.

Eventually, the train came to a stop at least a mile down the tracks. My dad got off to investigate, but I didn’t want to see the carnage, so I stayed behind, shivering in a frigid vestibule and looking out the open door as Dad made his way to the front of the train.

An ambulance silently passed by, red lights flashing, a shrouded figure stretched out in back. I would meet the ambulance driver, Bob Helms, years later at a book signing in Chadwick. Tears welled in his eyes as he told me about that night in 1959 when he helped retrieve the mangled bodies of the three people whose lives ended so suddenly and brutally.

The crash killed Eugene Kutzke, 22; his wife Ellen, 17; and her brother, Raymond Stage, 11 – all of Freeport, Illinois. Earlier in the day, they’d been in Dubuque, Iowa and were returning to Freeport in a borrowed car.

I remember being particularly troubled that a boy about my age was among the victims.

The coroner’s jury ruled the crash an accident. The car came from the West and made a sharp left turn just before the grade crossing. Several buildings on the right side of the car would have obscured the driver’s view of the tracks, which crossed the road at a slightly oblique angle. The speeding train was coming from the right. Even if the driver saw the train – which I doubt -- he wouldn’t have had time to react.

After my dad returned from his foray to the front of the train, we went to the club car and sat with several other people who listened as we recounted our stories. A woman told me she lived nearby and would send me a newspaper clipping with details of the crash. Thirty-five years later, it still hadn’t arrived.

Fast forward to about 1994. I was doing a writing exercise recounting a personal experience – the one you’ve just read. As I wrote, I remembered a radio news report about a car-train collision in which an infant survived. I began wondering what if an infant had survived the crash I’d witnessed and grew up wondering about her past. That idea turned into my mystery-suspense novel “Fast Track.”

The novel isn’t about the accident. If anything, it’s an example of how a personal experience can be the seed of an idea that can blossom into something else – something redeeming.

The book begins with my 25-year-old heroine vexed because she doesn’t know what to do with her life. She discovers the body of the aunt who raised her from infancy – a victim of carbon monoxide poisoning. (This is an echo of my sister’s suicide in 1980 – but that’s another story for another time.) That trauma begins a quest to unlock secrets kept hidden for a quarter century when her parents died in a mysterious car-train collision.

The manuscript went through 14 major revisions over 10 years before I found my current agent, Barbara Casey, (the 39^th agent I queried). During that process, I drew on other personal experiences to add texture to a story that includes politics, journalism, and mentoring relationships.

But it all started 50 years ago today in Chadwick, Illinois. So, I suppose it’s fitting that I named my heroine Lark Chadwick.

***

John DeDakis is a Senior Copy Editor on CNN’s “The Situation Room with Wolf Blitzer” and the author of the mystery-suspense novel “Fast Track.”

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/159507094X/ref=olp_product_details?ie=UTF8&me=&seller=

Overcoming the Fear of Rejection

I got an email recently from a young woman who told me she’s written a novel, but hasn’t shown it to anyone else because she’s afraid of having to deal with rejection.

Her instincts are correct -- she will experience rejection. And it’ll hurt. But it will also make the elation that comes with acceptance all the sweeter.

So, this is for all of you who have a book inside you somewhere. Maybe it’s just the nub of an idea that won’t go away; maybe all or part of it sits mouldering and neglected on your computer’s hard drive. But whatever the case, the fact that you’ve even thought about writing for publication should be a signal to pay attention to that inner nudge.

If the fear of rejection is holding you back, here are some suggestions on how to overcome it:

Expect to be Rejected: This, of course, is why you’re not letting anyone see your writing. But if you expect rejection, then you won’t be surprised when it happens. Every published author can tell you horror stories about having been rejected. In my case, 38 agents rejected the manuscript for “Fast Track,” my first novel, before I found Barbara Casey, my current agent – and she rejected the manuscript for “Bluff,” my second novel, twice before she deemed it publisher-ready. You know this instinctively and from experience: Rejection is part of life.

Identify What You’re Afraid of: Chances are you have in your mind a terrifying scenario in which someone will read your stuff and then dump on you mercilessly. Either they’ll puke and run away or they’ll be insulting. But let’s be realistic: How often has that ever happened to you? It’s more likely that you’ll experience polite indifference, which still hurts, but when you consider the range of possibilities, actual rejection could be much worse than it probably will be.

Cultivate Courage: It’s okay to be afraid. It’s a natural emotion we all experience. The question is what are you going to do with the fear? I’m always inspired by the guys who stormed the beaches of Normandy during World War II. Were they afraid? Of course, but they went forward anyway. Going forward is what differentiates cowardice from courage. Cowardice is letting fear paralyze you into inaction, but courage is fear in action. So, recognize your fear, embrace it, then move forward anyway. It produces confidence.

Learn From Rejection: Submitting your writing to someone else probably feels as daunting as facing enemy gunfire, but the good news is no one will be shooting bullets at you. Instead, if you’re lucky, you’ll get feedback that’s invaluable. Why invaluable? Because your goal as a writer is to connect with someone. Critical feedback is what you need in order to connect more effectively.

It’s Not About You: When you’re afraid of rejection, the focus is, understandably, on you. You have to start with yourself, but the goal is to get beyond this. Here’s why: Think of your writing as a gift that you’re giving to someone else. But tastes vary and your writing won’t resonate with everyone. People have the freedom to accept or reject your offering. Fine. The payoff comes when you realize that what you’ve written has touched someone else. That makes all the rejection worth it.

Here’s the saddest thing about rejection: If you give in to the paralyzing fear of being rejected, you will have succeeded in one major way – you will have succeeded in rejecting yourself.

John DeDakis is a Senior Copy Editor on CNN’s “The Situation Room with Wolf Blitzer” and the author of the mystery-suspense novel “Fast Track.” Visit his Web site at www.johndedakis.com

Beating Writer's Block - Some Suggestions

You know the feeling:

You’re on a deadline. You don’t have much time to craft the perfect story.

You sit and stare at a blank computer screen while it stares back at the blank expression on your face. With each tic of the clock, your blood pressure ratchets up a notch. Panic grasps you by the throat.

Ever been there? Of course you have.

During my 21 years at CNN, I’ve worked with some of the best writers in television news. I marvel at how they repeatedly – and rapidly – transform blank screens into solid, readable copy. Yet every now and then, someone gets stuck and needs a little help.

Whether your challenge is to write a news story, a novel, a term paper or an e-mail, here are some suggestions on how to beat writer’s block:

1. RELAX! - Nothing paralyzes more than trying to be perfect. The writers I know always aspire to do their best and that means nothing less than perfect. But it’s an elusive goal, so, rule number one: Relax. Take the pressure off yourself. It doesn’t have to be perfect – at least not the first time.

2. What Are You Trying to Say? - When a writer comes to me with that familiar blank stare, it’s usually accompanied by the statement, “I’m having trouble getting started.” It’s at times like these that I simply ask, “What are you trying to say?” Amazingly, when detached from the keyboard, the writer usually has no trouble telling me in his or her own words what the story is about. “Okay,” I’ll respond, “now go and write that.” Once the mental logjam is broken, the words flow through their fingers.

3. Listen to Your Head – Ah….but exactly what words? And in what order? The answers are already in your head. Listen to that voice inside you. Or, if you’re one of those whose head has many voices clamoring for attention, zero in on the voice you hear the clearest, then write down what it’s saying. Once you’ve written the first sentence, the others will follow logically as the momentum builds.

4. Take a Hike – Bob Slosser and Ken Gilliam are two of the best writers I ever worked with (may they rest in peace). Ken was a CNN writer who loved to craft the perfect sentence. He agonized as he searched for just the right words to turn an original phrase. He told me what worked best for him was first to think about the story. That was usually best done while taking a walk to the break room, the coffee urn, or the bathroom. When he returned to his computer, he’d make the keys clatter a bit, then he’d take another hike while his copy simmered. Finally, he’d return to take a fresh look at what he’d written, then buff, polish, tweak and revise before he was satisfied – or the clock ran out. Bob Slosser, a former New York Times editor and author of several nonfiction books, had an approach to writer’s block that was similar to Ken’s. Bob was a pacer. He once told me he wore out the carpet in his den as he walked back and forth in his quest to find the right words. Bob said each of his books “went through the typewriter” 25 times. That’s a lot of pacing. But you see, ruminating is simply another way of writing.

5. Write something. ANYthing! – Ruminating, thinking, and pacing are fine, but there comes a time when you must take action. So, just do it. You can always loop back and make it better.

These are just a few suggestions. The list is not meant to be exhaustive. What works for you? Pass it along. I’m sure we could all benefit from it.

My thanks to those of you who tell me you appreciate these little notes on writing. Is there a topic you’d like me to tackle? Let me know. Also….if you have a manuscript that needs the touch of a professional editor, put my experience to work for you.

Thanks!

John DeDakis is a Senior Copy Editor on CNN’s “The Situation Room with Wolf Blitzer” and the author of the mystery-suspense novel “Fast Track.” Visit his Web site at www.johndedakis.com

Writing for the Ear; Writing for the Eye

Recently, I spoke to the Colorado Independent Publishers Association (CIPA) in Denver. They bombarded me with great questions about the creative process, but one question stands out: What are the differences and similarities between writing for television and writing a novel?

As many of you know, my day job is a copy editor on CNN's "The Situation Room with Wolf Blitzer." And I've been a broadcast journalist for 40 years. (I hear those wisecracks about old age. Stop it!!) About 15 years ago, I added fiction to my writing repertoire. (I hear you media-basher cynics and your snarky remarks about fiction and journalism. You stop it, too!!)

Anyway..... the woman's question got me thinking that there are really more similarities than differences between writing for the ear (broadcast copy) and writing for the eye (print).

Broadcast copy has to be simple and lean because the listener only gets one chance to hear and understand. Unless you have TiVo, you can't tap on the TV screen and tell the anchor, "What did you say? I missed what you said. Could you repeat it, please?" The copy has to be clearly understandable the first time.

Print copy, obviously, can contain more nuance, details, and complexity. But the more I think about it, I see that a lot of my fiction writing closely parallels the broadcast style. For example, I'm writing the first draft of my third novel now. I'm finding that for most scenes, I write the dialogue first -- no action, no description, just two people talking -- a staccato, back-and-forth hot potato of word play. It's just like writing broadcast copy for an anchor because the anchor's copy is meant to be conversational, the way real people talk to each other.

It's only after I lay down my dialogue bed that I loop back and add action, description, and narrative. Yet even then, I apply the same principles that I've used over the years in broadcasting: keep it simple and keep it tight.

Some literary authors are great at writing lush, emotive descriptions. I wish I could do that, but I know my limitations. And I think I know that many readers these days don't want to get bogged down by convoluted sentences.

So.....perhaps novel writing isn't as different from broadcast writing as one might think. Your thoughts?

Heading to the Inca Trail

Lest you think I'm a total slug, I actually have been busy and productive since my last post in April, I just haven't been busy doing a whole lot of writing!

A big chunk of time was spent teaching a journalism class at American University in Washington, DC. Twenty-five students from around the country -- most of them juniors and seniors -- came to DC to intern at various media outlets (BBC, MSNBC, ESPN, etc). The emphasis of my class was on writing. Students learned (and I'm pleased to report they really did learn) how to write for both print and broadcast. My teaching philosophy is that you "learn by doing," so students wrote a LOT (which means much of my summer was spent reading and editing the hundreds of pages they wrote). Every week, they had to take a lengthy wire story and boil it down to a crisp, 20-second broadcast story. In addition, there were weekly guest speakers whose appearances were treated like a news conference: students were required to ask questions and then write the story in newspaper style. Guest speakers were: Washington Post reporter Michael Ruane; the ever-feisty veteran White House Correspondent Helen Thomas; journalist/teacher/author Alicia Shepard ("Woodward & Bernstein: Life in the Shadow of Watergate"); and my fellow CNN colleagues Zain Verjee (State Dept. Correspondent) and Alex Wellen (Online Producer).

Following the exhausting (but fulfilling) summer journalism teaching experience, my wife Cindy and I escaped to a secluded cabin on a pond in Maine for what amounted to a two-week second honeymoon (our first was 29 years ago). We were virtually cut off from e-mail and the internet. GLORIOUS! (However, I did manage to squeeze in a few book talks and signings, just to keep limber). Cindy used her Mac to put together a magnificent slide show which, if I ever get the time (and technical prowess), I'll post it here for you.

A week from today, I leave for Peru where I'll hike the Inca Trail to Macchu Piccu, one of the newest "Seven Wonders of the World." This came about earlier this year as I was in the midst of the fourth major revision of my second novel (working title: BLUFF). A murder takes place along the Inca Trail, but the more I researched the place online, the more I realized that in order to make my writing more vivid, I'd have to go on location. I'm excited, but a tad apprehensive, too, because I'm a lot older than when I did stuff this rigorous in Army basic training in 1970. So...... your prayers are earnestly coveted and deeply appreciated.

I'll "see" you when (Lord willing) I get back.

JD