The Long Way Home

by Scott, Jessica

  See, I’m surrounded by women. Great women. Awesome women who adopted me while I was deployed last year and sent me packages every single month. They didn’t forget about me when I fell off the planet for a while when I was dealing with some personal issues. They are fantastic.

  And yet, I’m awkward and unsure of myself every time I step into the room. I worry that I’ll swear too much or be too impatient or say something that might be perfectly reasonable to me but strike a civilian as completely horrible. And I desperately don’t want to offend any of them because they are an awesome group of ladies.

  But to be honest, my entire adult life has been spent surrounded by men. There are a few women scattered throughout the formation but by and large, I’m one of the few girls. So even though I wear makeup in uniform, I don’t wear much. I don’t want guys to look at me and see a girl. I want them to see a soldier. And even though the first thing they do see is a girl, they don’t see a girlie girl and when I open my mouth, it’s obvious that I am a soldier first.

  As I get ready to go to RWA, I realize that I am going to have to be on guard. I’m going to have to polish the turd, so to speak. To learn to have entire conversations without swearing, even when I’m relaxed.

  Do you have any freaking idea how hard that is going to be? Oh and it says on the website business casual. Um, I own jeans. And t-shirts. And flip flops because when I’m chasing my kids around the zoo, heels aren’t exactly what I would call functional (I am, however, in awe of women who do decide to go to the zoo in high heels, but I wonder if they’ve taken pain medication beforehand?).

  That being said, every time I go to ARWA, I’m glad I went because I learn a little more about how to relax and how to be a little more of a girl. I won’t be a soldier forever. At some point I’m going to have to get reacquainted with my feminine side.

  And apparently, that was supposed to start the moment I commissioned. When my former brigade commander gave me some of his valuable time for mentorship, he pointed out that I still have some of my NCO tendencies. He asked me how many times he’d sworn during our conversation and I couldn’t honestly think of any. Then he asked how many I had. And I flushed, but he said it was fine because I wouldn’t talk like that if I was talking to the division commander and he was right.

  So as I move further into my transition as an officer and as a writer, I realize that I have to find ways to be a little less crass, a little more polished. I have to swear a lot less and find a ton more patience.

  In essence, I have to start polishing the turd.

  Watch What You Say

  June 22, 2010

  SO TODAY, TWITTER AND the media are all up in arms about comments General McChrystal made to a Rolling Stone reporter. Watching the commentary on MSNBC today, you would have thought GEN McChrystal had committed high treason.

  Here’s the thing, and it is universally true regardless of what profession you are in: Watch what you say and who you say it to.

  Early in my military career as a young private and specialist, I made an offhand remark to a sergeant about one of the key leaders in my platoon, never dreaming he would go back and tell said key leader. What followed was a significant emotional event for me in learning the lesson that (a). I was wrong for the comment and said key leader turned into a true mentor for me, but (more importantly), (b). watch what you say.

  It’s a lesson that has stuck with me over the years and one that I have internalized strongly. People around you are probably not your friends and even if they are, their loyalty may be to someone else. Over the years, I have made many acquaintances and few true friends. The friends I do have, however, I trust implicitly. Even then, I sometimes censor myself.

  Call it distrust, but I call it prudence. When I was having trouble with my former agent, there were two people I talked to about how I felt and what I was going through, and I trusted those two individuals to keep it between us, not shared on message boards and other writing groups. Everyone else got a censored version and that’s the way it should be. I shouldn’t be posting on my blog all the dirty details and I won’t, because it’s unprofessional.

  When I was having problems with my previous commander, I posted things here that I knew might get back to him. I never posted anything that I would be uncomfortable explaining and, there too, the thoughts and emotions were self-censored. On PBS, there are so many things I said in real life that I would never post online.

  In developing my public persona, I am highly aware that everything I say and do will be held against me. This is a key thing to remember as I head off to the RWA National Conference next month. There will be gossip and drinking. There will be private conversations, but during all of that, in the back of my mind, will be the reminder that I am “on.” Even there, when I’m going as a writer and not as a soldier, I am still a soldier and I am still being scrutinized as such.

  So I will watch what I say and who I say it to. Just like always, because I would hate for an offhand remark or six to be turned into a public spectacle.

  The Undoing of a General

  June 23, 2010

  AS MANY OF YOU know, I occasionally dip my toes into the waters of commenting on policy or major media events about our government. I don’t do it often because as an officer, I’m held to a higher standard and sometimes that means keeping my mouth shut (you have no idea how much of a challenge that truly is).

  Anyway, for the last two days, we’ve been watching the talking heads in the media pick apart the Rolling Stone profile of General Stanley McChrystal. There’s been everything from rabid defense of the general to rabid calls for his public flogging. I read the article after hearing about the furor on the news and if you haven’t, I encourage you to read it.

  Because it’s nowhere near as bad as the media makes it sound. Why do I say that? Well, for one, when people like Maureen Dowd criticize the general and his aides for machismo and “towel slapping,” I get annoyed. Why is it we as a society have taken machismo and manly, warlike behavior and turned it into something to be condemned? Hello, he’s a general in the Army. He’s not supposed to be handing out flowers and candy. He sends soldiers to kill people. That is what he does and the manner in which he carries out his mission, while subject to discussion and debate, should not be held up against some liberal version of ideals that say we can all just get along.

  Additionally, as the leader of forces in Afghanistan, GEN McChrystal is the face of the war and, well, the public is sick of the war and I’m reasonably certain the politicians are, too, if media talk is any indication. The problem here becomes a few offhand remarks are turned into crimes nearly worthy of treason by a media that, despite protests to the contrary, are still very left-leaning and antiwar. And while the media have made good strides in not portraying soldiers as baby killers and potheads like they did during Vietnam, there is still an underlying current that the soldiers shoulder the burden of being lumped in with the antiwar sentiment.

  The fact that President Obama has seen fit to either accept GEN McChrystal’s resignation or to remove him from command remains firmly the president’s decision. What I see in a general that makes me respect and admire him, civilians look at as barbaric towel slapping. There is a disconnect between what we in the military deem appropriate or effective behavior and what civilians deem appropriate or effective.

  In the end, this decision will be judged by the history books. Just as former President Bush’s legacy will change based on the long-term success or failure of Iraq and his policies there, President Obama will be counted among the presidents responsible for the win or loss in Afghanistan. He made his decision after personally speaking with General McChrystal. He did not knee jerk and fire him via VTC or teleconference. He spoke to him face to face. I have to accept and believe that he made his decision based on the facts as he saw them and I will not question his decision. He is the commander in chief and I have taken an oath to obey his orders, just as all officers do.

  GEN McChrystal served honora
bly and with the greatest admiration and respect of his soldiers. He was not necessarily loved but being in command isn’t about being loved, it’s about accomplishing the mission and taking care of soldiers. It is a true shame that a reporter with an ax to grind against the war and the military chose to publish this article about this general to grind said ax.

  Catharsis

  June 24, 2010

  I’VE BLOGGED A LOT about my experience with some of the folks I’ve worked with in Iraq. I’ve also been honest with you about some of my failures, both as a leader and as an officer. But at the end of the day, my failures in those situations, my decisions to act or not act for whatever my justifications, were my decisions and my failure has weighed heavily on my heart.

  The second and third order effects of my failures are that some people in the Army have gotten promoted due to my unwillingness or inability to fall on my sword.

  A few weeks ago, I had a phenomenal opportunity to sit down with my former brigade commander and pick his brain about my future as a company commander. In the hour and a half he sat with me, we talked about some of the things that went wrong and some of the things that he saw that I had not. A hard lesson I had to learn as I’ve come through the ranks is that the people above me making decisions have access to information I do not have and he saw things at his level that I simply did not and even if I did, we would not have seen the same things.

  When we talked about NCO/Officer relationships, I confessed to him where I failed. I told him explicitly what I did and why I did it. Do you have any idea how hard it is to look into the face of a leader you respect and admire and look up to and tell him how badly you screwed up? And to watch the disappointment flicker there when he told me how many weak words I’d just used?

  Yeah, it sucks. And you know what else? He didn’t cut me any slack. He told me point blank that the action I took probably resulted in that individual being promoted. Maybe even being my first sergeant. He laid it out for me. And then he said, “Get over it. Did you learn from it?” I said yes. He then laid out for me that some fights are worth lying on your sword for, some are not, but that I made the best decision I could at the time and that other people had a vote. It was not only my decision that sent that NCOER through.

  It was truly cathartic for me to admit what I’d done and where I failed. I’ve carried around that failure with me for a year now. That NCOER was mostly the truth but it was better than it should have been. But I also learned a powerful lesson and when he explained to me that no relationship is static, they are constantly in flux and subject to assessment, I had an epiphany as to where I’d failed. I’d failed to constantly adjust and redefine right and left limits in that specific relationship.

  So I’ve finally found a way to let go of the guilt I’ve been carrying around inside me for this. It was not an absolution but a way of finally learning what I was supposed to from that whole experience. Because for the life of me, before I talked with my former commander, I had no idea what I was supposed to learn from what, in my mind, was one of the biggest mistakes as an officer I’ve made to date.

  I understand so many more things now but with that understanding comes new expectations. It’s like one burden has been lifted, replaced by a new responsibility to live up to the things he taught me.

  I’m so incredibly lucky to have been part of this brigade and have this brigade commander to step on my neck. That sounds funny but he demanded more from me than I ever thought possible and sometimes more than I thought was fair. But he held me to a high level of performance and he told me I lived up to his expectations.

  Hearing that? Well, I can’t really explain how that made me feel.

  It made a lot of the painful lessons of the last two plus years worthwhile. I understood his intent very clearly from the moment he told me what had happened to him in Sadr City. I knew what his intent was for communications in his brigade and I busted my ass to make that happen. I didn’t always succeed but I never quit.

  I was meant to go through that pain to learn those lessons. Finally, I understand some of the things that have been driving me absolutely nuts. And I’ve had the opportunity to be influenced by one of the strongest leaders I’ve ever met in my entire career.

  I hope the signal world is ready for some venom because that was his charge to me as I leave this brigade and head back to my roots in the signal corps. But I’ll never forget where I come from or the foundation that was laid for me as an officer in my brigade.

  Oh, and I’m completely borrowing one of his sayings. I will freely admit to it right here: Don’t Mistake My Passion for Anger.

  This ought to be interesting.

  A Pantster Learns to Plot

  June 29, 2010

  SO HERE’S THE THING. Today, I finished rewriting the book that we’ll just call Shane’s novel for the fifth or maybe the sixth time. It’s had so many titles but the one you all have heard me talk about is War’s Darkest Fear.

  But I did something different this time. I wrote the synopsis for it and sent it to my agent, who didn’t like it and subsequently passed on it. But I rewrote the story anyway (another story entirely).

  Essentially, it was just to see if I could. Because as I sit here and write these words, I am about to bare my writer’s soul: I don’t plot. Or at least, I didn’t. I have eleven novels under my belt (don’t laugh—no they’re not published and yes, they need revisions) and I didn’t plot a single one of them. I rewrote five of them and if you count the multiple rewrites of Shane’s story, I’ve rewritten upwards of twelve books. Or the same book six times, however you choose to look at it.

  But see, now that I actually have an agent who, oh I don’t know, wants to work with me on an actual writing career, I kind of have to listen to him. So after he KOd Fear (and I didn’t completely listen but that’s another story), I sent him something like eight paragraph pitches for story ideas because my fab writer mommy and critique partner kicked me in the ass and said you are married to your ideas. Get over it if you want to sell and stay published.

  So I sent him my ideas and waited. He came back with two that he thought were marketable. And he didn’t comment on the rest (let me tell you that I feel the burn for those stories he passed on. They’re in my blood but maybe, just maybe, I’ll listen to the guy who knows the market, right?). But he picked up on one of the books that I hadn’t written. I’d bounced the idea around in my head a few weeks ago when I should have been writing and jotted down a synopsis.

  It was an ugly synopsis but I sent it off to my CP to see what she thought (I’ve completely stolen her synopsis formats, by the way. I heart her). She came back with thoughts which I absorbed. Then I started emailing back and forth with my agent about the idea (we might have had a phone conversation, I honestly can’t remember). So I found a way into the story and I (brace yourself) wrote the synopsis.

  Now, this is the girl who doesn’t plot, right? I usually start a book with a scene that jumps out at me but by the time I get into rewrites, that opening scene doesn’t stay. And that’s okay.

  But for me to plot out an entire book in a synopsis? Unheard of. I tried it once before and I never wrote the book. But I wrote it, sent it to CPs who pointed out issues, fixed and sent to agent. And waited. Not long, mind you. My agent is fast, so I’m a happy girl. I got the call Monday for a file I sent him on Friday.

  The first thing he said was, I don’t normally read a thirteen page synopsis (what I sent him). And my heart sank a little. I figured this was it, he doesn’t like the fiction ideas, I’m agentless again. But then he says, “You really had me on the edge of my seat. You essentially wrote a short story outlining what happens. Most synopses are outlines or are too bogged down in detail but the way you wrote it, you had me hooked.”

  So I’m like sitting in my driver’s seat (I’d pulled over) doing a little happy dance that he liked it. Really liked it. And basically, he told me to get to work, he wanted a draft in about two or three months (thank God I can actually
write fast but we’ll see how this goes).

  So I’m sitting here tonight, getting ready to open up a new Scrivener file for this new project. And it’s not a rewrite. It’s not characters that I’ve already taken through two or three drafts and know so well they’re practically real for me. I’m looking at the blank page and I already know what happens in my story. Rewriting Shane’s story over the last couple weeks was really, really easy for me because I’d plotted that sucker out. Now, this doesn’t mean that my draft is ready to go on to the editor who wants to see it. It needs revisions (and that doesn’t mean checking for commas), but for once, I honestly think I’ve got a draft that doesn’t require major rewrites.

  But I’m staring at this open Scrivener project and I’m at a loss. I’ve got the story in my head. I’ve got the characters. But for me, this is uncharted territory. I’ve completely reversed my process. I write the book, figure out the story, then write the book again. And again. And possibly again. But this time, I’ve figured out the story (I think).

  Now, I just have to write the book.

  Updating My Blog...Again

  July 5, 2010

  THERE ARE FEW THINGS that I know about myself more than the fact that I’m always changing my mind about some things. Clothes, I’m good. I wear the same things: t-shirts, jeans, casual pants, and flip flops. I know what colors look good on me and my closet is filled with blacks, browns, whites, and khakis. Color is hard for me so I don’t do it.