Cedar Valley News
Fictorial Number 416 · September 17, 2026
Something Big
By Chloe Papadakis
I make things for a living, and I will tell you a secret about people who make things. Nearly all of us, somewhere down deep, are quietly waiting for permission.
We wait to feel trained enough. We wait to be certain the thing will come out any good. We wait for somebody with authority to look at us and say, yes, you, you are allowed to make this. And so, a great deal of what we might have made never gets made at all, because the permission never comes. It was never going to come. There is no one whose job it is to hand it to you.
Let me tell you about a man who did not wait.
In 1921, a short, poor, barely literate Italian immigrant named Simon Rodia bought a small triangular lot in Watts, in Los Angeles, and he began to build. He was a tile setter by trade. He had no training as an artist, or an architect, or an engineer. He had no money to speak of, no plan drawn on paper, no scaffolding, no machinery, no crew. He had only his own two hands, and the few hours left over after his day’s work, and so he began.
He bent scrap steel against the railroad tracks to shape it. He mixed his own mortar by hand. And into it, piece by patient piece, one shard at a time, for years and years, he pressed the broken and the thrown-away things of other people’s lives, cracked dinner plates, seashells, bits of tile, the green glass of old soda bottles. He climbed his own rising towers hand over hand with a bucket, no ladder, no harness, an old man near the end of it, a hundred feet up in the air.
He did this for 33 years.
When he finished, 17 towers stood twined together on his little lot, the tallest nearly a hundred feet high, glittering with the town’s broken crockery. He had no buyer for it. No one had asked him to make it. No gallery was waiting. When people asked him why on earth he had done such a thing, he never gave the same answer twice, and the closest he ever came to a reason was this. I had in mind to do something big, and I did it. Then he signed the land over to a neighbor, left, and never once came back to see it.
Now here is the part I love the most.
Years later, the city decided the towers were unsafe and must come down. They brought a crane, hooked a cable to the tallest tower, and pulled. They pulled with 10,000 pounds of force, enough to bring down a building.
The cable snapped.
The towers did not so much as tremble. Read it again, slowly. A short, untrained man, working alone with other people’s broken dishes and permission from no one on earth, had built a thing the machinery of a whole city could not pull down.
I think of Simon Rodia whenever the old cowardly voice starts up in me, the one which asks who on earth I think I am to make anything. Because here is what he proves, standing there in Watts to this very day. You do not need permission to make a beautiful thing. You do not need training, or money, or a patron, or an audience, or a plan, or even a reason you can say out loud. You need only the thing you have in mind, and your own two hands, and the plain stubbornness to begin, and to keep on beginning, day after day, until at last it stands.
Nobody handed Simon Rodia his permission. And nobody, my friends, is going to hand you yours.
So do not wait for it.
Whatever it is you have in your mind to make, however untrained and unqualified and unsure of yourself you feel, however foolish it seems to begin, begin.
Do something big, whatever your something is. And on the day they come with their cable, let it be your own work which stands, and their cable which breaks.
Cedar Valley News is free, and it comes to your inbox every morning, six days a week. If this morning’s fictorial was worth your time, please forward it to someone who would value it. And if someone forwarded it to you and you’d like your own each morning, you can subscribe here.
Cedar Valley News has a Letters to the Editor page, and I would be glad to hear from you. What is the thing you have in mind to make, and what permission are you waiting for? Write to us. And if we have gotten something wrong, write and tell us, and we will run the correction.
This fictorial is part of the fictional Cedar Valley News series, written by Evan Swensen, Publisher, and Claude Marshall, AI Developmental Editor. While Chloe and her town are fictional, the story is real. Sabato “Simon” Rodia (born in Italy, died 1965), an immigrant tile setter with no formal training in art, architecture, or engineering, single-handedly built the Watts Towers in Los Angeles between 1921 and 1954, working by hand without scaffolding, bolts, or drawn plans. He shaped salvaged steel and embedded found objects, including broken pottery, tile, seashells, and glass, into 17 interconnected structures, the tallest just under 100 feet. He gave the property away in 1955 and left. In 1959, the city deemed the towers unsafe; an engineering load test applied roughly 10,000 pounds of force to a tower, the test cable failed, and the towers stood. They are now a National Historic Landmark. Sources include the Watts Towers of Simon Rodia State Historic Park and standard accounts of Rodia’s life and work.
Robin Barefield lives in the wilderness on Kodiak Island, where she and her husband own a remote lodge. She wrote her first novel, Murder Over Kodiak, powered by a generator, miles from the nearest road. No MFA. No publishing connections. No high-speed internet.
The ceremony is the same every year. The names are the same. The readers change — grown children now where small children once stood, grandchildren where children once stood. The memorial pools fill the footprints of the towers. The water falls continuously.
Open a browser you do not normally use. Type your name. Hit search.
He had grown up in Bujumbura, the capital — the son of a French father and a Rwandan Tutsi mother. In 1994, the genocide in neighboring Rwanda killed between 500,000 and 800,000 people in one hundred days. Civil war followed in Burundi. His family left. He grew up in France.
The morning after. The folding tables are back in the garage. The leftover food is in the refrigerator. The unsold books are stacked on the dining room table. The banner is rolled up in the corner.
Lee came to the United States from Seoul at age three, with his mother and sister, to join his father, a psychiatrist who had immigrated earlier. He grew up in Westchester County, outside New York City. As a child, he often translated for his Korean-speaking mother. He stood between two languages for her, carrying her words into English and the world’s words back to her.
Monday morning. A bookstore manager sits down with forty-seven unread messages. She has an hour before the store opens. She is deciding which emails deserve her attention and which ones can wait.
The novelist Ella Camposanto has arrived in Sicily with her twelve-year-old daughter, Manuela. They are staying near the ruins where the narrator’s grandmother once worked on an archaeological dig. The summer is full of volcanic rumbles and sudden storms. The narrator’s mother is beginning to forget.
When I was publishing Alaska Outdoors magazine, the head of the journalism department at the University of Alaska sent me a submission. It was so poorly written, I took it for a joke. I answered it as a joke, only to learn the author was serious. He simply had such an inflated self-image; his writing read like a spoof. It was no spoof.
At 8:15 on the morning of August 6, 1945, Kiyoshi Tanimoto was on the outskirts of Hiroshima, unloading a handcart at a house in the suburb of Koi. He was two miles from the city center. He had slept poorly — the overnight air-raid warnings had kept him up — and he had risen early and set out with the cart.
Two books publish on the same Tuesday.
Among the nineteen longlisted novelists this year are writers who have been writing for a long time before this first novel existed.
You check your Amazon page for the first time after your launch team has done its work. The reviews are there. Three in the first week. Your heart lifts. Then you notice the label beneath one of them.
This is Publication Consultants’ motivation for constantly striving to assist authors sell and market their books. Author Campaign Method (ACM) of sales and marketing is Publication Consultants’ plan to accomplish this so that our authors’ books have a reasonable opportunity for success. We know the difference between motion and direction. ACM is direction! ACM is the process for authorpreneurs who are serious about bringing their books to market. ACM is a boon for them.
Release Party
Web Presence
Book Signings
Facebook Profile and Facebook Page
Active Social Media Participation
Ebook Cards
The Great Alaska Book Fair: October 8, 2016


Costco Book Signings
eBook Cards

Benjamin Franklin Award
Jim Misko Book Signing at Barnes and Noble
Cortex is for serious authors and will probably not be of interest to hobbyists. We recorded our Cortex training and information meeting. If you’re a serious author, and did not attend the meeting, and would like to review the training information, kindly let us know. Authors are required to have a Facebook author page to use Cortex.
Correction:
This is Publication Consultants’ motivation for constantly striving to assist authors sell and market their books. ACM is Publication Consultants’ plan to accomplish this so that our authors’ books have a reasonable opportunity for success. We know the difference between motion and direction. ACM is direction! ACM is the process for authors who are serious about bringing their books to market. ACM is a boon for serious authors, but a burden for hobbyist. We don’t recommend ACM for hobbyists.

We’re the only publisher we know of that provides authors with book signing opportunities. Book signing are appropriate for hobbyist and essential for serious authors. To schedule a book signing kindly go to our website, <
We hear authors complain about all the personal stuff on Facebook. Most of these complaints are because the author doesn’t understand the difference difference between a Facebook profile and a Facebook page. Simply put, a profile is for personal things for friends and family; a page is for business. If your book is just a hobby, then it’s fine to have only a Facebook profile and make your posts for friends and family; however, if you’re serious about your writing, and it’s a business with you, or you want it to be business, then you need a Facebook page as an author. It’s simple to tell if it’s a page or a profile. A profile shows how many friends and a page shows how many likes. Here’s a link <> to a straight forward description on how to set up your author Facebook page.



Mosquito Books has a new location in the Anchorage international airport and is available for signings with 21 days notice. Jim Misko had a signing there yesterday. His signing report included these words, “Had the best day ever at the airport . . ..”



The Lyin Kings: The Wannabe World Leaders
Time and Tide


ReadAlaska 2014
Readerlink and Book Signings
2014 Independent Publisher Book Awards Results

Bonnye Matthews Radio Interview
Rick Mystrom Radio Interview
When he published those overseas blogs as the book The Innocents Abroad, it would become a hit. But you couldn’t find it in bookstores.
More NetGalley
Mary Ann Poll
Bumppo
Computer Spell Checkers
Seven Things I Learned From a Foreign Email
2014 Spirit of Youth Awards
Book Signings


Blog Talk Radio
Publication Consultants Blog
Book Signings



Don and Lanna Langdok
Ron Walden
Book Signings Are Fun
Release Party Video
Erin’s book,
Heather’s book,
New Books