The day I met Karada’s Cherokee, the bond was forged. I was head over heels in love. He was everything on the outside that I loved. He was the perfect size, a small gray half-Arabian. Thankfully, I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to buy a horse because of their color. But that sweet Arabian head and soft eye did me in. He had a peace about him that was very drawing to a thirteen-year-old girl. He was an immediate oasis in life as a young teen.

He became my right-hand man. We trained for horse shows, he assisted me in training other horses, and he taught others to ride. I rode him in Western Pleasure, Hunt seat Pleasure, and could jump up to 3-foot jumps. He knew how to pull a cart, and often we dragged brush from the Western saddle to clear trails. I stood on his back to pick apples, and he could pick blackberries faster than I could. We showed 4-H together for many years. He was a delight to be with.

He had some fun quirks, though. He hated it when a covey of quail would fly up out of the brush as we rode past. Totally understandable, as it scared a year’s growth out of me too! Sometimes he would jump sideways, but mostly he’d plant all four feet into the ground until the fright passed. When we were practicing hand gallop, he had a habit of giving a little squeal and a bit of a buck. It made me laugh. I taught him to go faster by whispering Omar Sharif in his ears. Those short legs would fly across the ground!

His favorite drink was cherry-flavored soda. He would drink from the can while I held it for him. I saved it for a treat when we were at the county fair because he didn’t like the taste of city water, a half can in his water kept him from becoming dehydrated.

He changed my life. I learned to be quiet while dealing with horses. He gave me peace. I learned to trust. When I raised a pair of very young kid goats, I slept in the stall with Cherry. He would nudge me when he needed to get up and then lie back down so I could cuddle up with him again. We lived in the woods in the middle of our 234-acre farm when my parents’ marriage was dissolving to dust.

One night we camped on top of a hill in some small trees. I’d tied him to a small tree and crawled into the tent for the night. A terrible thunderstorm rolled in and broke over us. I heard strange noises coming from outside and peeked out to see what it was. Cherry was lying on his side, desperately trying to get up! I ran to his side to find all 4 legs bound by the nylon braided lunge line! I worked feverishly to unwrap it. We were both drenched and shivering by the time I got him unwrapped and back on his feet. The walk home was terrifying, with lightning crashing across the bare hilltops we had to cross to get to the barn. I promised him I would never sell him if we made it home alive! Cherry stayed strong and solid by my side. When we finally stumbled into the barn, I tended his rope burns, bedded his stall deeply, and gave him water and hay. I crept into the house and into my bed, where I spent a restless night, dreaming of flashing lightning and growling thunder.

We changed camps after that. We found the spring with a water tank in a valley where 4 hills came together. I never had to tie him again. He stayed in the little valley where plentiful grass and water kept him happy. I built a fire pit for food and comfort. My miniature dachshund, Cherokee, and I were so happy to spend the rest of the summer away from the chaotic energy of the household. I’d go back every day to the farm to train horses. Mostly, I stayed away from the messy emotions of the household as much as I possibly could. Without the care and peace of Cherokee and my dog, I wouldn’t have stayed sane.

He was always there for me, strong, silent, and supportive. He was my shield against the growing sizzle of emotions of my parents’ failing marriage, and my salve when Dad left without a word. It broke my heart when I had to sell him when I was eighteen to get home from California. I felt so guilty that I had broken his trust and the promise I had made with him. I struggled with that for years. I knew where he was and knew that he was with good people who loved him. I was married and had two children before I had the opportunity to rectify my broken promise. I bought him back for my children, and they enjoyed him until he was 33 years old.

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There are times when it’s all about giving and no thoughts intrude about what can be received.

As the red-flecked gray mare stepped off the trailer, anger raged through me. She must have once been a flashy Arabian mare. Now she was a bag of bones, eyes filled with fear and sorrow, and so weary. The rage drained away, and my heart filled with pain at the sight of her. My compassion dampened the anger I felt toward her previous owner. What kind of human intentionally starves a herd of horses? Who breeds indiscriminately and then won’t take care of them? What was wrong with this person? Thankfully, the county stepped in and took them away. One horse out of the nine didn’t make it out of that hellhole.

We put her in a deeply bedded stall, took the halter off, and stepped away. She moved away from me and warily watched me from the far side. I turned away from her and waited quietly. She eventually stepped towards me, but not close enough to sniff the back of my hand. I was satisfied with that small effort and left her to settle in. She needed time to release from the stress of losing her home, her herd, and the two foals she had raised. The youngest of the two was two years old and only alive because she was still nursing her to supplement what little food was offered. Most mares would wean their babies by six months. She sacrificed her own health for her filly.

I pondered a name for her. As I watched her from outside of the stall, I was reminded of the Bette Midler song, “The Rose”. “Just remember, in the winter, far beneath the bitter snows, lies a seed that with the sun’s love in the spring becomes a rose.” She was sent to me because Spirit Horse Equine Rescue and Education Center felt that under our care, she might just survive. I wasn’t sure, and I was going to go all out to save her.

The Rose was highly reactive. I later learned that the previous owner would corner her and throw his bear-like arms around her neck and hold her in place. Not exactly the gentle touch that I use with horses. Even casual hand gestures would send her either running away or frozen in place. We had to slow down, talk softly, and allow her to come to us. It took weeks to get her to allow us to touch her on the neck. When we could start brushing her, we had to use the softest brush, or she would shy away from us. We gently untangled her long mane one tiny bit per day.

She slowly gained weight, and her spirit began to come through. Her eyes brightened, and her tail came up as she cantered around the arena. We put her in with Cotton Candy, who was quiet and sweet and a great pasture mate. When Candy had a lesson to teach, The Rose would come with her. Rose would often stand in a corner away from the activity and people.

One day, during a lesson, the child’s mom sat on the mounting block with her head hung low and her body slumped in defeat. The Rose slowly approached her and put her muzzle in the woman’s lap. The woman looked up in surprise but sat absolutely still. The Rose stayed right there without moving for many minutes. Then she looked the woman in the eyes and sighed. She then walked back to her corner.

From that day forward, The Rose would comfort the moms who came with their children to lessons. Without any expectations for her to “pay” for our kindness, The Rose gave us the gift of comfort, trust, and grace.

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“It is obviously most difficult to look at oneself. However, it is clear to me now that the character known as Jay no longer exists. Prior to 1986, he had a passion for medicine that was central to his being. When his medicine was challenged, his very essence was challenged, and the Defense became the passion. He saw only the Defense and excluded all around him, except those involved directly in the trial. Only now do I understand the torment that that exclusion created for his family and friends who wished, but were not allowed, to be with him. He did it his way, selfishly, and a bit crazed, I guess, but really the only way for him, and the immediate result was good. But now, with the trial over and the manuscript completed, the passion, and with it the love of medicine, is gone.”

Written in January, 1993, three years following the settlement on May 14, 1990, of a malpractice trial, when Peter Pryor, the defense attorney, Dr. Fran Berman, the Native American PhD defense team psychologist, and I, gathered in my mountain home to discuss the completion of the manuscript, “About Not Losing” which described the trials of 1989 in 1990, those words accurately summarize the psychological effect of such a trial

Prior to 1986, I followed a wonderful path toward neurosurgery. After secondary school at Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts, and undergraduate school at Denison University in Granville, Ohio, I was able to attend medical school at the Cornell University Medical College. While there, I was extraordinarily fortunate to obtain a summer job in the Department of Neurology surrounded by world-famous neurologists. I then had a rotation in the Department of Neurosurgery under the world-famous neurosurgeon Dr. Bronson Ray, which led to a career in neurosurgery... My initial years in practice in Colorado were rewarding, and I was again fortunate to share many cases with the Chairman of Neurosurgery at the University of Colorado Health Sciences Center.

However, in 1986, a wonderful patient of mine suffered a catastrophic complication from a procedure performed by others that I did not wish to be done, and my life changed forever. Obviously, initially, I was distraught over this occurrence, and the next months were spent directing her total care and supporting her family. I felt a little better when I was able to arrange with my malpractice insurance company that money for her care for the rest of her life would be made available. But, unfortunately, this was not satisfactory to her Native American husband, who obtained the services of a famous Native American plaintiffs’ attorney. A lawsuit demanding $9.7 million was filed, and the settlement had to be set aside. All the others involved in her care fulfilled their roles, leaving my partner as the sole respondent in the legal action. I had become a defendant – a full-time defendant. A first trial in November 1989 led to a mistrial, leading to the need for a second trial, which began on April 30, 1990.

During the time between the two trials, I attempted to return to being a physician unsuccessfully. I wrote in November 1989, “The image of Sheri, as I first knew her, remains before me. I have tried to maintain some semblance of a medical practice during the period between the two trials, yet the tragedy that has befallen this lady permeates every action and decision, and allows me to continue only at the most basic level. I have been asked what was so special about her. What did she mean to me? Why, of all other patients, some with equally sad neurologic outcomes, did she affect me so? Dr. Berman, the team psychologist, was unrelenting on this question, telling me to dig deeper. I kept coming up with “I don’t know” – an unacceptable answer. I did know she insisted.” One particular encounter with her was memorable. “ I remember obtaining the operative consent for her first surgery. For obvious reasons, consents for neurosurgical procedures are particularly detailed, listing all reasonable options and complications. When we finished, she looked directly at me, and, with a hint of hurt in her voice, said that I was treating her as an enemy, not a friend – that she knew it was a difficult matter, and that I would do my best.” The memory of that encounter remains with me to this day.

Then, later in April 1990, I wrote further, “During the four months between the trials, I attempted to return to some semblance of a medical practice, but during this time, I could never really be a doctor because I was never free of activities of the trial to come. Even before the second trial, I had begun to realize I was no longer a functioning physician, though, of course, there was the hope, and indeed expectation, that I might be able to recover from the legal course of action and return to the active practice of neurosurgery.

The preparation for the second trial changed the entire picture. Peter Pryor asked if I would be willing to document the experience of being a defendant in the upcoming high-stakes malpractice trial, and agreed to allow me to include his diary as part of the prospective manuscript. Dr. Berman then agreed to allow me to use her diary as well. At that point, I had become not only a full-time defendant but, in essence, a professional defendant. and remained so during the entire trial. This forced me to focus entirely on the legal aspects of the case as an advocate and, in essence, to forget being a physician.

Once the legal life and its description in the proposed manuscript became full-time for me. The trial team (Peter Pryor, Dr. Fran Berman, Kathy Martel, a junior attorney with the firm, and Mary and Sam, Peter’s paralegals) became my trial family. My real family and friends were no longer a significant part of my life. Indeed, I hardly talked to my wife at all, even when we were driving to the trial location.

Unfortunately, I simply had no appreciation as to the effect this would have on her, or on them. This perspective persisted throughout the trial, during the preparation of the manuscript, and until the three of us met in the mountains to complete our project. As noted, that meeting was really the first time that I had some personal recognition of the effect that my role as a defendant had on me and on all those around me. Indeed, thereafter, my wife and I had undergo psychological counseling to simply be able to start to resume some semblance of a normal life.

But in 1993, another realization became clear. Even at that point, I found that my passion for medicine had simply vanished, and I was unable to regain the excitement and pride inherent in being a neurosurgeon. I was still highly trained and therefore skilled, but without the passion, I simply could not ethically hold myself out as what a patient should expect from their neurosurgeon. So after a bike accident led to a broken hip, I took the reasonable step not to return to operative neurosurgery and become a consultant. I found I was uncomfortable facing patients without the passion for being able to care for them, an untenable ethical position, and some time later, I fully retired from clinical practice.

By then, I had become involved in a number of healthcare projects, several of them seemingly important, but in retrospect, each was simply a surrogate for the passion lost to the trial. The good news is I have come to accept these surrogates as critical to a new identity, and life in the last few years has been rewarding for me and hopefully for my family and friends.

What does all this mean? What is my advice for those who have unfortunate medical occurrences and face the possibility of a malpractice trial? I think, now, my advice is clear. If one has an unfortunate medical event and realizes that a mistake was made, then the only reasonable ethical response is to settle with the injured party. If, however, one looks carefully at one’s care and finds no breaches in quality, and if one’s colleagues have looked at the episode and strongly support the care, then there are still two reasonable responses. The first is to accept the fact that one can take pride in the fact that the care was appropriate, and settle with the injured party, realizing that is what malpractice insurance is for. I have talked to a number of professors who perform cutting-edge procedures, so occasional bad results are inevitable. They almost uniformly have that perspective. The final alternative is to decide to defend one’s care.

However, that alternative should be chosen only after accepting the almost inevitable fact that one’s life will be changed by the process. That has been the experience of several other physicians who have defended themselves but now wonder whether it would have been better for them to take the other option. And, of course, that has certainly been my experience.

As a senior neurosurgeon, I am frequently asked what advice I would give others when seeking a similar career. My advice has always been, “For all of us, doors frequently open, but usually they open at an inopportune time; my suggestion is to walk through the door, and look to see if what is on the other side is better than what had been planned all along.”

With those words, I began the prologue of the book “About Not Losing”. I reported that my neuroscience career truly resulted from walking through the wrong door and then excitedly grabbing onto what was on the other side. Specifically, after my second year of medical school, I planned to apply for a summer job in the Pulmonary Department. Somehow, I walked into the wrong door, which I found out later led to the office of Dr. Fred Plum, a very famous neurologist, and I confidently reported that I was there for a summer job. To this day, I remember the astonished look on the face of the secretary, as no student had ever applied for a summer job in that office.

Astonishingly, I obtained the summer job working with the fabulous neurologists in that department. This led to a lifelong interest in neuroscience. However, after a clinical rotation on the neurology service, I realized that my personality was more aligned with that of the surgical specialties, and I was fortunate to obtain a rotation on the neurosurgery service under the direction of Dr. Bronson Ray, probably one of the top one or two neurosurgeons at that time. Dr. Ray never talked to me except for one time when he chastised me for the way I had closed a skin wound during a back operation. Evidently, Dr. Ray did respect my work on the service, and one night, when no resident was available, he allowed me to assist him in an operation, taking a patient back to surgery for a postoperative hemorrhage. After he had reopened the wound, which was bleeding extensively, he briefly put his instruments down, looked at me with I, think, a twinkle in his eye, and said, “Are you sure you want to be a neurosurgeon doc?” The answer, of course, was, “Yes, sir,” and a career in neurosurgery was guaranteed. Again, a totally unexpected door had opened, and I managed pass through the door, which led to my future career.

Then, following the completion of medical school and the first years of neurosurgical training, I spent two years in the military, one of which was an absolutely delightful year as the medical director of a small hospital in Thailand. After my return to the US and the completion of my neurosurgical training, until the tragic events of 1986, I had a remarkably rewarding career in neurosurgery. I serendipitously discovered an unknown characteristic of the effect of laser surgery on some tumors, especially a tumor called a meningioma, which led to an extraordinary technique for treating these tumors. Thereafter, I had a rewarding time sharing many cases, particularly the laser cases, with the wonderful Chairman of Neurosurgery at the University of Colorado Health.

Sciences Center. Thus, I believe that I was able to recognize the unusual opportunities that came my way.

My second piece of advice to my young colleagues is that doors frequently close during life, but when one door closes, almost inevitably another door opens. One loses only if one fails to walk through the newly opened door to see what opportunity might lie on the other side. After the tragic medical event of 1986, leading to a high-stakes medical malpractice trial, I spent the rest of my life walking through newly opened doors, finding new opportunities, and a new personal identity.

The tragedy began in June 1986, when a lovely young woman was referred to me for the neurosurgical repair of a post-ethmoidectomy (nose operation) spinal fluid leak which occurred in Wyoming. It required two operations to stop the leak (not totally surprising given that the estimated failure rate was as much as 40%). She also developed meningitis and was very sick and barely responsive.

However, at midnight, July 1, she awoke and was able to communicate with me for the first time in days. Unfortunately, later that night, she suffered a severe complication from a procedure performed by others in the hospital that I did not want to be done. From that complication, she suffered a severe stroke, from which she never fully recovered. I was so angry that I requested the medical malpractice insurance company to take care of this unfortunate lady and her three children for the rest of their lives. To its credit, the company set aside $1.5 million for its care. Unfortunately, the amount was not satisfactory to her Native American husband. He went to the famous Wyoming Native American attorney, Mr.Gerry Spence, and a lawsuit for $9.7 million was filed. Mr. Spence came to Denver for a trial starting on November 13, 1989. He was opposed by my attorney, Mr. Peter Pryor.

Despite the usual theatrics and superb storytelling characteristic of his brilliant adversary, Mr. Pryor resisted what appeared to be an attempt to intimidate the defense into a large settlement, and ultimately, a mistrial was called for procedural reasons. The mistrial caused the need for a second trial. Mr.Spence did not return for the second trial, and the plaintiffs were represented by an excellent local plaintiff’s attorney. Between the trials, my attorney asked if I would be willing to write about the experience of being a defendant in a high-stakes trial. I was initially reluctant, given that I have no experience whatsoever as a writer.

Peter and then Dr. Fran Berman, the Native American PhD defense team psychologist, agreed to allow their diaries to become additional voices in a potential manuscript. With their involvement, I agreed to try to document the proceedings. The trial went well for the defense and ended abruptly and favorably, with a small settlement to an Indian tribe, with nothing to the plaintiffs or their attorneys. The resultant manuscript was completed but not accepted for publication, primarily, we were told, because the abrupt ending of the trial was not favorable for a literary piece. Despite the project’s failure, the trial had a profound effect on all three of us.

For Dr. Berman, the trial with its Native American overtones led her to rediscover her Native American heritage, which she had partially lost due to unfortunate childhood experiences. And the good news is that she remains active in her support of Native American causes.

Mr. Pryor was known to be a brilliant malpractice defense attorney, probably the best in Denver. I had seen him in action when he defended a previous partner of mine. His performance during that case certainly was extraordinary. However, during our trial, he was extraordinarily passionate about the issues and about me, at a level quite out of context to my experience during the other trial. Prior to the lawsuit being filed, he had been the emissary for the request to the insurance company to take care of this family. I always wondered if he felt that the honorable solution was forestalled by the legal system when the lawsuit was filed. While he always denied that to be true, he almost seemed to me to act as if he were a secondary defendant in the trial. In addition, I found out that he had not taken part in malpractice defense trials for some years. I have always wondered if this could possibly have been a reaction to our trial as well.

As I am likely with any defendant in a high-stakes trial, I was changed by the process. In the manuscript I wrote, “The character known as Jay no longer exists.” With that, I explained that I had changed from being a neurosurgeon passionate about my field, and whose life, like many East Coast neurosurgeons, was primarily centered around his participation in his field. Indeed, in many cases with these neurosurgeons, even the family’s primary role is to be supportive of the neurosurgeon’s medical decisions. You want to frame a picture, perhaps cutting off part of the bottom of the frame.

After the trial, it did not take long. I just love proposing, whether or not she was supposed to be doing this for me, to realize that the passion for neurosurgery, and medicine in general, simply was gone, never to return. I first retired from operative neurosurgery, and, not too long thereafter, retired from neurosurgical practice altogether. I spent the rest of my life becoming involved in other avenues, activities related to medicine, but separate from the active practice of neurosurgery, and activities that I realized correctly to be surrogates for the passion that was lost in the trial. The process of writing this manuscript is probably the last surrogate, and certainly has been rewarding.

So what are my suggestions for my medical colleagues? First, as I wrote in the prologue, we should always investigate any doors that open, particularly those that open unexpectedly. Walking through the wrong door and being surprisingly accepted for a summer job in the Department of Neurology led to an interest in neuroscience. Then my unique experience with the famous neurosurgeon led further to an initially promising career in neurosurgery. After completing neurosurgical training, I had a rewarding early career in neurosurgery. So I believe that I was able to recognize the unusual opportunities that came my way.

So what are my suggestions about walking through newly opened doors when another has closed? I found that after the trial, my career in neurosurgery was over, and I had to turn to surrogates for the passion that was lost.

The first surrogate was the completion of the manuscript about the trial, about which, although it was not accepted for publication, we were proud because of the dedication and discipline it took to write it.

The second surrogate was the development of the Colorado Low Back Collaborative. The Collaborative was based on the model of the Colorado Workers’ Compensation Medical Care Delivery System. That model, which I had studied extensively, and found to be outcome-based, given that any decisions are based on indemnity costs, which are, of course, a reverse measure of outcome. The Collaborative, which took a full three years to develop, was supported by Dr. Jacqueline Stiff, the wonderful local medical director for United Healthcare. It was rolled out in January 2011 to national acclaim. Unfortunately, the primary care physicians from the supporting hospital for whom the program was developed decided that the $500 management fee (in addition to their regular fees) was not worth the four minutes of extra time necessary during the initial evaluation for data entry, and one minute extra time during each follow-up visit, and decided to exit the program, causing its demise. I remain indebted to Dr. Stiff.

The third surrogate was accepting an offer to become a medical director at another insurance company. For quite a while, this actually proved to be quite rewarding, in that I was asked to set up the spine program for that company with another physician. The program was based on a set of guidelines, called the Milliman Guidelines, which had been reviewed by representatives of all of the major spine surgical societies. The program quickly became quite popular with the physicians, because they knew that quality was the main issue that was being addressed, and also, apparently, by the company, which realized that quality care is probably the most cost-effective.

Unfortunately, after 13 years and more than 26,000 reviews, I was transferred to the appeals division of the company. I quickly realized experience in this division was different than what I had experienced previously. The director of that program was under the direct control of a strict female physician director who was under the strict direction of the financial department of the company. I soon found that appeals reviews were not necessarily based on quality, and realized that my propensity to overturn prior denials for quality reasons was not popular with the system.

Then, not too long after joining the appeals team, my position as a contract physician was eliminated. Of course, I was not told the reason for this, but I surmise that my insistence on performing complete reviews based on quality issues did not resonate well within the company. I was quite upset, not that I needed the job, but that I was proud to have been a patient advocate in a company that clearly needed one. Dr. Berman has realized that writing the manuscript has been my final surrogate. It has certainly been a new and rewarding process for me.

So, finally, what are my suggestions for physicians in general? The first suggestion is to be very careful about choosing a malpractice insurance company. Be sure to choose a company that has the reputation of allowing you, as a possible defendant in a malpractice action, to play a major role in the decision as to whether or not a lawsuit should be settled or defended.

What is my suggestion for physicians who have experienced a medical complication and face the likelihood of a suit being filed against them? First, any physician in that circumstance should review the care extremely thoroughly and carefully. If an error is found, even a small one, then the only ethical decision is to settle. If no error is found, and the physician is thinking about defending the case, that physician should be sure the insurance company has chosen the very best malpractice attorney available, and utilize that attorney in any further decision-making. Obviously, the first step is to have the case reviewed by outside consultants. If the consultants find a problem with the care, that problem will obviously come up in a trial, and the best choice is to settle.

If, on the other hand, the consultants agree with the assessment that the care was beyond reproach, then there are still two options for the best next step. The first is to settle, knowing that the care was fine and understanding that is what insurance is for. Settling in that circumstance is unlikely to affect insurability in the future. Certainly, my experience with many professors is that it is exactly their strategy. They know they are performing an innovative procedure from which bad results will occasionally result, leading to lawsuits. They are not bothered by the lawsuits.

Indeed, I knew a neurosurgeon in New York City who, at one point in time, had 11 lawsuits filed against him. He was not bothered at all by this, knowing he was a man of stature, and again believing that is what insurance is for. Finally, if the choice is to defend the care, then my experience, and the experience of many others, indicates that the physician will be changed by the process. For me, the change was dramatic in that I lost my entire passion for medicine. That will ot necessarily occur to others, but certainly a change of some sort will occur.

Next, if a physician is going to trial, what should the physician do in preparation before entering the trial? Again, the physician surrounds him or herself with the best attorney and any other experts (such as the Native American team psychologist for me) that might be useful in the trial. Then, during the trial, the physician should take an active role, such that he/she feels pride in what is going on. Also, if the physician is active during the defense, they will interact with many of the people involved in the trial, and they can often, either during or after the trial, lean on them for reassurance about how the trial proceeded. My experience is that my young Thrasher juror had a large impact on me when he said, “Don’t let it go over this.” Because of his words, I truly tried to return to medicine, but just found that facing patients, and particularly performing surgery, without the passion for those activities, was certainly not an ethical course for me to take.

Finally, after the trial is over, the physician must carefully look at themselves and realize how he/she has been changed. Only then can that physician begin to seek other rewarding avenues, and, in essence, to walk through any newly opened door when the door to the prior career was closed.

I’m coming to you this time with a bit of a heavy heart. My Father passed on Martin Luther King Day (1-19-26) and I woke up to the news and my world has changed a bit. I had planned out this post beforehand and I wanted to add a special note about this moment in my life.

I’ve thought a lot about writing tools lately. I’ve used several to write my books and other material. I started out using Evernote for my writing (and my whole life!) and then I transitioned the books to Scrivener (which I never really took to using) and then to a special tool called Ulysses that was a blend of Scrivener and Evernote that I’ve enjoyed using. However, I got to thinking about writing tools and technology when I opened Scrivener again to look at it for working on a book I’m stuck on. I have a big sweeping fantasy series that has been stuck for a while and I thought, “Maybe I should try Scrivener again.” And that got me thinking about writing tools.

Some people claim that they can only write using a certain program or tool. Others just open any word processor and start typing away. Still others still write long-hand and type it up later. The most complicated one I say was someone who wrote long-hand, typed it all up on a typewriter, and then transcribed it again into his computer. This system combined his editing/revision process into the writing process so that the last copy was the best and most complete version.

I used to write long-hand, but I found the transcription to be far too tedious after producing so much material and I eventually learned how to creatively write on a keyboard. It was hard, but it is nice to have to ready to use elsewhere, especially when I’m working on things that will be published digitally. I can also make quick notes on my phone as well which is quite handy too. I am old enough to remember when we carried small paper notebooks around for such things, and now I have all of my projects, in Ulysses, in my phone (or tablet) and they can be with me wherever I go.

Technology is powerful, but I will give everyone the same advice I give to my students at The Cameron Journal Academy: don’t let a tool (or lack of one) be a barrier to writing down your story and thoughts. If you have to write long-hand, do it. If you want to use a tool, do it but regardless of what you do, you need to write. A tool will not create your story (and yes that includes AI). It will not revise your prose or make things any tighter. A tool can help you do grammar edits before line editing (which is great!). Tools are nothing without a master to wield them. So if you’re stuck on a project or stuck on using a tool, remove any barriers to getting the word on the page. I am following my own advice on this too. Scrivener won’t solve the problems that I have with my fantasy project. It might help me see them in a new way, but that’s the best thing it will do. It is up to me to do the writing.

What writing tools do you use? Let us know in the comments!

Happy reading during this frigid mid-winter!

Cameron Lee Cowan

VP of Brand and Creative

SOOPMedia

Happy Christmas Everyone!

It is damn cold here in New England. Yesterday it was 19 degrees, and today it is a balmy 28 (practically a heat wave!). And this has pretty much driven me inside. But that’s ok because this is the best season (and weather) to curl up with a good book. As we all know from my little messages to everyone, I sometimes have trouble finding to read because I read so much, bringing new books for everyone here in our SOOPMedia family.

We published three new books and reissued another this year. Plus, we have our existing library, and we have new holiday bundles for you (see below!). 2025 has been a huge year for SOOP. We have launched a great deal of new projects, we have new projects, and we are growing like never before. It is a great time to know us because it only goes up from here!

This time of year, when I have time to read, I love a big thick book, something meaty. This year, I’m going to try to get all the way through “Poor Charlie’s Almanac” which is a book of wisdom from the late investor Charlie Munger from Berkshire Hathaway. You know, his more famous partner Warren Buffet. It’s hardcover, heavy and a bit long, but I’m excited to see what I can learn from it. I don’t mention it enough, but if you aren’t in the mood to read, you can always listen. Our podcast network has something for everyone. Whether you want to talk business and life with Alise Cortez on Working on Purpose or enrich your spiritual life with Unboxed on Purpose, we have a show for you. If you would like to have fun with the latest trends, you can’t beat my buddies on The Living Joke. And of course Wade and I are here still talking about religion and politics. However, if you’re looking for something to read over the holidays, we have plenty of big heavy books for you!

If you haven’t seen the email yet, you should have, but I wanted to draw your attention to our Holiday Bundle offers! We have packaged together a great set of bundles for you to get your favorite SOOP reads this season! Get all three for yourself, or buy a bundle, keep one and give the others away! We’ve made it easy to give the gift of reading this holiday season with our Holiday Bundles:

Medicine and Health

Politics

Anthologies

Memoir

Great Fiction

Happy Christmas Everyone!

Cameron Lee Cowan

VP of Brand and Creative, SOOPMedia

Hello SOOP Readers!

Fall is the best season, isn’t it? It is one of my favorite, it is helpful to get past the heat of summer and into the cooler temperatures of fall. I recently did my fall cleaning and there was so much dust and a few cobwebs from our spider friends! But it was nice for everything to be so clean, air filters changed and just reset for this harvest season. There is quite a harvest this year and here at SOOPMedia we have been busy in the literary fields!

I think you all know what I’m going to be talking about this month! It’s our new anthology collection, Fantastic Worlds! Our unique fantasy/science fiction anthology collection is out now!

This collection is so special, it includes wonderful stories like Chronosphere, Liana of the Seventh Spin, and a novel excerpt from Todd Embry called Confluence. We explore all kinds of worlds, adventures, and concepts through the pages.

If you haven’t gotten a copy, you can get one right here: https://soopllc.com/product/fantastic-worlds-anthology-2/

This book is a great gift and with the holidays coming up, you can’t do any better than to give the gift of reading! But don’t just give it away, either; Fantastic Worlds is the perfect book to cozy up to this fall. So grab your favorite hot drink and a copy of Fantastic Worlds, and cuddle up for adventure.

Before I go, I really want you to check out this live event. I was thrilled to host two of our authors and our curator on The Cameron Journal to talk about the collection: https://youtube.com/live/dvc_veMLcuQ

See you in November!

Cameron Lee Cowan, M.A. MFA

VP of Brand & Creative

SOOP Media

Happy Summer everyone!

I’m so glad we are past those cool spring days and now we are into the sun and the heat.

What are you reading this summer?

This summer has not been as much of a literary time as I would have hoped. I haven’t had as much time to read as I hoped I did but I have been reading some interesting client work which will become SOOP releases over the next several months.

I do want to remind everyone that our next anthology, Fantastic Worlds is coming out in the early fall and my next book, America’s Lost Generation is also coming around the same time.

Fantastic Worlds brings together the worlds of fantasy and science fiction into one fascinating collection that even includes a novel excerpt! Both I and the curator are excited about the project.

My next book, America’s Lost Generation is about Millennials and the story of how the largest and most educated generation in history never quite found its stride and why it really sucks to be under 45 these days.

Written through the pandemic and the years afterwards, I have watched some of the things I read and wrote about come to life. I even had to do some edits to include how things are affecting Gen Z! From housing and dating to NEETs and more, my book explores why young people are struggling with real numbers and real life interviews. Look out for that soon!

If you have not checked out our latest release, About Not Losing, I encourage you to do so! It is a wonderful legal thriller and perfect for summer reading or into the fall.

Medicine and law face off in a contentious malpractice case and we get to explore the lives of the people involved on the ground in Denver in the early 1990s. You can pick it up today in the SOOP Bookstore.

I also want to let you know about my new buddy podcast that I’ve launched with a couple friends of mine. The Living Joke brings three guys together to talk about trending topics, gaming, movies, TV and more. Come hang out with Connor, Will and myself as we talk about the stuff we are into. If you enjoy watching streaming gaming content, Connor and Will are streaming regularly and you might find me streaming some games too. Please do follow us right here on Substack (thelivingjoke.substack.com) and follow our journey! We have three episodes out right now and the guys just did a ranking of Gen one Pokemon that is tons of fun!

Alright, that’s all from me this month. See you in August!

Cameron Lee Cowan

Director of Publications and Anthologies

Executive Director, SOOPcast Network

SOOPmedia

Welcome to almost-summer!

Summer is one of the best times to dig into a good book. This past weekend, I was sitting on a friends deck with a great pergola and reading a book. It was nice to put down my phone and experience content in a different way. Lately, I’ve been reading two books. One on the psychology of money and the other on the Federal Reserve. I detect a theme! I’ve got money on the brain (don’t we all at some point?) Ever since the 2008 financial crisis, I’ve been hyper focused on banks and banking so I enjoy a good banking intrigue book!

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This summer we’ve got some great reads for you. If you haven’t picked up About Not Losing, it’s the perfect book for summer. It’s long, there’s lots of drama and intrigue and it’s available in every format (except audio).

I also would like to remind everyone about our great anthology collections. Winners is a great summer read and one of my favorites. 25 Servings of SOOP ( 1 and 2) are also perfect for summer.

May is also a month leading into a lot of graduations. Penn and Kim Holderness, who are a popular youtube family, have a daughter graduating and posted this funniest video about graduations and how they have changed. One of the things that has not changed is how great books are for giving to new graduates! Check out our whole catalog for a book that might be suitable for your graduating family member.

https://youtube.com/shorts/n-cjmC7OjtU?si=8O_Gjj3BxQwOL7s3

Father’s day is also coming up and if Dad is inclined to reading, then a SOOP book might be perfect too! It’s Dad’s and Grads season which makes a book the perfect gift.

Summer is the best season for reading and I know everyone is looking for their summer reads, so let us know what you’re reading this summer!

We’re excited to hear your picks for summer reading (and we hope it’s a SOOP book!)

Warm regards,

Cameron Lee Cowan

Director of Publications and Anthologies, SOOP

Happy Spring everyone!

Things are warming up and unfreezing outside up here in New England and that means that things are opening up and everyone is feeling a little better (yay for vitamin D) and that makes it a great time for spring reading. Spring is a good time because we aren’t ready for the easy beach reads of summer yet but we’re over the big thick books we’ve been crawling through all winter. You can get outside to the park or at least to your own green space at your home and soak in some sun while reading a good book. It’s relaxing just thinking about it.

Obviously, I’m going to recommend About Not Losing, our latest release from Dr. James Ogsbury about a thrilling malpractice trial in the early 1990s. I’d also like to recommend my own short story collection, An Unfinished Coloring Book which is the perfect book for Spring. If you’re looking to do some healing and self-improvement, now is a great time to read Alise Cortez’s Coloring Life which tells her fascinating story. She also has some new classes and workshops coming up (so keep an eye out for those!). If you’re looking for the perfect spring anthology, I would pick up a copy of our “Winners” anthology which is perfect for spring.

It won’t be ready for this spring, but I want to mention our new anthology, Fantastic Worlds which is in its pre-order phase right now. If you love fantasy and science fiction, then Fantastic Worlds offers a great thrill. I’ve been reading over the stories and they are exciting, deep, and truly fantastic. Get your discount on your pre-order copy now. If you haven’t’ seen the trailer for the collection check it out below!

I hope you have a great rest of April, I know I will because my birthday is coming up at the end of the month, so that’s always a good time despite being another year older!

Happy reading!

Cameron Lee Cowan, MFA

Director of Publications and Anthologies, SOOP

Hello everyone!

Welcome to March! I’m really excited this month because we (finally) have our latest book, About Not Losing that is out now! Thank you to everyone who pre-ordered! We’re really excited about this book. It’s offered in ebook, paperback, and hardback and you can get it directly from SOOP with the biggest discount available. As most of you know, its a medical and legal thriller that goes through a malpractice trial in real time with thoughts from the defense lawyer, the defendant and the trial psychologist! We’re excited about this book and the author, Dr. James Ogsbury has been a delight to work with on the project. This is our first project out of our hybrid publishing program! Big shout out to our Editorial and Marketing teams for a successful launch! About Not Losing is an Amazon Hot New Release in multiple categories for both ebook and paperback!

Great things are happening here at SOOP and we’re excited to keep offering you great books!

As I’m writing this, I’ve just gotten back from running errands and it was so nice to have a nice, warm, sunny day to go out and run around town doing various things that need doing! One of the nice things I like about living in the Northeast is that we get spring a little sooner than we did when I lived in Seattle. Back in Seattle, sun wouldn’t be on offer for another couple of months. But today we got a nice sunny day and that has lifted my mood a great deal. But it also has me thinking about what makes for great spring reading. I’d advise everyone to dust off that “to be read” pile and find a great spring time book. You’ll have plenty of time to finish it before its time for summer reading! Personally, I think About Not Losing is the perfect spring time read but I’m a bit biased.

Happy spring to you and most importantly, happy reading!

Cameron Lee Cowan, M.A. MFA
Director of Publications and Anthologies