Motherly Advice

Mother’s Day is almost here, and my Facebook feed will be filled with pictures and poems and favorite mom memories. It’s one of my favorite social media “events” because I love seeing how much my friends look like their moms and reveling in the impact mothers have.

When I do school visits, students will ask me why I wrote The Haunted House Project, they always ask me why I wrote the book, what inspired me, and what the ultimate message is.  I usually stumble through an answer about hope and love and tenacity, but this close to Mother’s Day, I realize how much of it is a book of Mother’s advice.

It’s making me think about the best advice my mom ever gave me. As a teen, of course, I thought it was the stupidest thing I ever heard. I probably even told her that.

I went a few rounds in the ring with depression. Negative self-talk punched me in the head (you’re stupid), in the gut (You’re ugly), and in the side (No one likes you) over and over again.

My mom used to say, “Smile more.”

I used to think, “You don’t get it. It’s not that simple.”

And let me say for the record, no it’s not. Obviously, depression isn’t that simple.

But I’ve learned that despite thinking my mom was ridiculous for saying it to me, she was right.

Smiling more is good.

I teach emotional contagion theory in Interpersonal Communication class. An oversimplified explanation is moods can be contagious. I find that when I smile at people, they smile back. I know I tend to gravitate toward people who are smiling. I perceive them to be more positive.

Sometimes, it takes effort. If I’m tired or engrossed in work, and my child runs up excited to tell me something, I may have to remind myself to smile back, knowing that the scowl on my face signals to her that I don’t care. It’s a combination of emotion work and self-monitoring. And I fail. Quite a bit, actually.

And know that I’ve been there. When you’re down, smiling seems stupid. Certainly, it won’t solve depression either.

However, more often than not crabby begets crabby; happy begets happy. So, I’m going to keep on trying to smile more.

Because my mama told me so. 

Change the world ... again.

Yesterday, I took my youngest daughter to the polls with me, fully believing that I was voting for the first female President. I’d been pretty emotional about it for two days. We talked about the process.  We talked about why it was so monumental. We talked about all that had been lost for women to have the right to vote and how long that took.

Last night I drove three teens to dance. We all laughed as they pulled up funny videos of both candidates. They bust a gut on Hillary’s “seizure” video. We giggled at videos of Trump’s speeches talking about Jay Z’s language while overlaying recordings of him using similar or worse speech. Still, these totally a-political girls were essentially begging me to tell them he would not be President.  I told them things were looking good.

Two hours later, our car mood had shifted.  Early results were not, in fact, looking good, and we all lamented the things were couldn’t believe he’d said. We talked about fears. I told them it was still early. I also told them our lives would probably not fundamentally change no matter who was President. That many of the big claims made were unlikely to happen.  

Still, we understood what this meant, for us.  For women and girls.

I’ve spend my life—there may be an archive somewhere of my little feminist self on WEKZ spouting how girls were just as good as boys—studying and teaching about gender and culture. The last six months have been incredibly hard to watch.  Public political speeches, Facebook posts, Tweets, and comments on news articles revealed that racism and sexism were not only not gone (though I knew they never had been) but were shockingly no longer embarrassing to admit, that people were proud to use those words and to demean others again.

This morning, I read a victory speech from a candidate whose campaign unearthed some very cold truths about what Americans believe regarding race and gender.

His speech was as humble as any he’s ever given. He espoused ideas about improving infrastructure that we can all get behind. I have to hope for good things to come. But hope is not enough.

Many of my friends are asking “What do I tell my kids? What will I say to my daughters? How do I explain this to my son?”

One responded, “Teach him how to be a good citizen and he will grow up to change the world!”

What’s hard today is that I thought we already had.  I thought Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton had changed the world.  I thought Martin Luther King, Jr. had changed the world. I thought Barack Obama had changed the world.

Hell, I thought I’d done it, one hundred students a semester at a time.

I thought my girls could feel confident that they would be rewarded for their competence.

But she’s right, of course.  That’s what we must do.  We have to continue to be a voice of light. To support each other.

Trump can win the Presidency, but hopefully we can all still lose the hate.

May hope and love find you. May they be the tools you need to change the world ... again.

Sending your babies out into the world

In less than 2 weeks, The Haunted House Project officially releases.  However, Amazon started shipping pre-orders this week, so my book is about to be in the hands of friends and family (and eventually, perfect strangers).  I always tell my students in public speaking that I'm a little odd.  Most people like audience filled with people they know.  I'll take a roomful of strangers every time.  I feel less pressure.  I worry less about disappointing.

Each stage of the publishing process presented a new challenge.  From writing and draft work to querying agents to submitting to editors to revising and waiting, waiting, waiting for this moment.  And now that it's almost here, it's far scarier than I anticipated. Did I do the characters justice? Is it good enough?

Of course the biggest is, "What if everyone hates it?"

This morning I can't help but compare this process to being a parent. Each stage of parenting presents new challenges.  Holy cow I could not wait to get through that awful toddler stage, but my goodness they don't stop talking at around four.  It's hard to appreciate where you are when you're there because you're so busy focused on how the next phase is going to be better. 

Eventually (way too flipping soon!) you have to send those babies out into the world.  Did I do them justice?  Are they good enough?

And of course the biggest is, "What if I failed?"

You know you didn't fail.  You know they're good, but they'll make mistakes.  You know they'll succeed … most of the time.  I imagine you always worry, but eventually, you see them become their own person and the pride takes over.

I'm hopeful anyway that's where I'll get.

I'm hopeful I'll feel that way about my book, too.  I know not everyone will love it. And that's okay, right? 

Because I can be proud what I did, the characters who didn't exist before I brought them to life.

They're ready for me to send them out into the world. 

Be good.  Play Nice.  Make friends. 

Pumped up for PitchWars!

I'm so excited to be serving as a co-mentor with the amazing Laura Shovan in this round of PitchWars. You can view all the details of our preferences and interests on her blog. The big day is almost here:  It's down to hours before we'll be open for submissions.  It's going to be interesting to be on the other "side" of things.

I know what it's like to get the email requesting more material. 

I also know what it's like to receive rejection letters.  Lots of them.

I have numerous blog posts about my query journey and then my submission story.  Both requires patience and perseverance. Thankfully, my alter ego is "Tenacious T" because I sure didn't get through this process because of my patience.

Here are a few things to remember (and hey you can use this for more things than PitchWars!)

• It's not personal.  

It may FEEL personal.  All rejection feels personal, but unless only one person submits to my partner and me, we will have to choose only one mentee.  In our case, we'll also be negotiating two potentially different opinions. We may be equally devastated to walk away from a manuscript and/or author.

• You are not a failure.

I know people have said this like a million times over, but seriously, you wrote a manuscript.  You're doing great.  If you don't get selected as a mentee, the journey doesn't end.  I didn't.  And less than six months later, I had an agent.  

• It isn't luck.

I put this in here because sometimes when we face rejection we try to come up with reasons why we didn't succeed, justifications. I often hear people talk about how someone just got lucky.  In the world of book publishing, that's pretty rare.  It's because of the work put in; not just any work, the right work.  I have manuscripts I'm still revising after like seven years because they simply aren't ready.  

• Relationships are good.

This is another thing I hear a lot--it's about who you know.  A little.  Sure.  It can help.  Relationships are especially good at helping you figure stuff out and finding good critique partners. 

• But the writing comes first.

Polish that manuscript!


Good luck!  Team TLC cannot wait to read those submissions!

A Book that Stays Gold

In my last blog post, I linked my Sweet Sixteener bio, and I hinted that my next blog topic was in that post.  Did you read it?  Did you guess?

I'm currently gearing up to be a Pitch Wars mentor, and I'll be talking quite a bit about that in the upcoming months.  It sparked reflection on my favorite middle grade novels (some border YA).  I'm going to start with a couple from my youth and then move into some more contemporary options. I already talked about my love for Little House, so next up has to The Outsiders, by S.E. Hinton. 

I cannot begin to express the level of freakishness that I achieved in my love for this book.  I mentioned it in my bio post on the Sweet Sixteens, but I lost count of how many times I read it, at least twenty one summer alone.  I really did put Vaseline in my hair in my effort to pretend I was a the long lost Curtis sister.  I went to camp that summer, and people thought I was a total nut job because I wouldn't put the book down (I'm sure they were right). 

If the internet had existed, I have no doubt I would have discovered fanfiction and fan communities more than twenty-five years sooner than I eventually did. 

What was it about that book?  

Who knows why we connect so deeply to some stories, movies, T.V. shows, music, etc. more than others?  Thank goodness for choices that allow us to all find our escapes in different ways.

Ultimately, though, I think there are three things that made The Outsiders so powerful to me.

1. The world-building. No, it's not Narnia.  Tulsa is real.  The era is real.  It's that a great story kidnapped me and held me captive even in a place decidedly different from my midwest, middle class, lifestyle. I entered a world of rebellion and youth at a time when I was just beginning to exert independence.  

2. Theme of injustice. I have a love/hate relationship with this theme.  If it goes to far, I get mad and I'll stop reading. This story was more revelatory than anything.  It demonstrated how socio-economics impacts both general groups of people as well as specific individuals.  It was an early and powerful lesson for me about privilege, and Cherry Valence, and identifiable character who taught me about the diffic
ulties of speaking out about injustice.

3. Emotional explosion. Media use theories teach us that one immense value of popular culture is the ability to experience emotions in guilt free environments.  What a roller coaster this story was, with two major character deaths, hints of love, family struggles, anger, and ultimately a journey to catharsis. 

My most-read, beloved favorite childhood book.  I'll be talking about more favorites, but I'm curious.
What book have you read the most?

Meet the Author Post at the Sweet Sixteener Blog

Please take a moment to check me out at The Sweet Sixteeners Blog.  I'm the featured "meet the author".  Read closely because my next post is is going to be about something in this interview. 

Meet the Author, Sweet Sixteeners

Can you guess the topic of my next blog entry?

See you soon!

What would Ma and Pa do?

I'm back.  I think.  I want to be anyway.  Now, that summer is here, I'm trying to carve more time for writing-related activities, and this blog has been pushed aside for too long.

Like most people, my heart has been heavy the last few days.  Politics are frustrating to say the least. The massacre in Orlando is both depressing and infuriating. The internet is filled with bad news, over-reaction, judgement, finger-pointing, pathetic argumentation/rhetoric, self-promotion, and hatred.  I'm tired of it.  And you have to know, I love the internet.  I'm sure I'm addicted.  Even so, I kind of want to run away for awhile, but every day, I feel on edge, and I'm sure it's connected to how much nastiness I'm reading on a daily basis.

I've been wanting to blog or respond to so many things, but I can't think of a valuable or original way to contribute to the conversation.  Plenty of people have said what I'm thinking.  Plenty of people yell and throw stuff at them.  And back and forth it goes.

One of the reasons I read and write YA and MG fiction is because at it's heart, children's literature is hopeful. People make mistakes, and they are forgiven.  Bad people find karma knocking on their front doors. It's a world in which characters experience emotions such as love and heartache for the first time--so many powerful feelings, so many struggles.  Still, in the end, the characters grow and learn and thrive.

One of my favorite book series while growing up was Little House on the Prairie.  
Who didn't love it? I adored the T.V. series, too.  In the wake of so much
cruddiness all around me, I can't help but think, "What would Pa do?'

And you know what's funny?  I'm not the only one to think this way because a quick Google search yielded far more entries on "lessons learned from Little House" (link 1, link 2, link 3)  than I expected.  So, yeah, I guess I'm not that original, but I still want to go there.  I'll keep in short.

1. When new people come to town, welcome them.

Pa didn't care what you looked like or where you came from or how you got there, he would always be there to shake a hand and offer to help each new person who came to town.

2. Listen and respect each other.

People on the prairie didn't always agree, even in the closest of relationships.  Even in a world of traditional gender roles, when Ma and Pa had differences, there was mutual respect and admiration. 

3. Bullies don't win because in the end, they are never happy.

Nellie and Harriet, anyone?  They were cruel and judgmental with others, but it was clear that they didn't like themselves very much, and it never got them very far.  

4. Life is complicated and sometimes doing the right thing is, too.

Remember when Pa made shoes for Olga even though her dad didn't want him to?  Or when Amy Hearn faked her own funeral in order to get her kids to visit? Characters in the show faced all kind of very real problems, from loss to substance abuse to racism and sexism. Sure, it's a T.V. show, and there was always a resolution, but that didn't mean it was easy.  

It means that life is messy.  It means sometimes, we have to step out of our comfort zones and stand up for others even if it would be easier to keep our heads in the sand.  It means we may have to put our own needs above others. It should force us to ask questions like, "How does this benefit my community?  What can I do to help others? Am I fighting because I want to be right or because the cause really is right for everyone?"

I've said before, watching the first few seasons of Little House pretty much teaches you everything you need to know about being a good person.  

Maybe the Internet could have one giant watch-along! 

Did you have a favorite episode?  Or book that helps center you on important life values?  

As a writer, a teacher, a critic, and a parent, I'd love to call for a little less anger and a lot more Little House. 

Submission Process: Part II

Waiting.

More Waiting.

Then an offer!  Whoo hoo, the waiting is over!

Just kidding. 

I had heard stories over the years about how things move slowly in the publishing world, but I'm not sure I ever really understood that. 

It took about two months to go from the offer to a signed contract/announcement of the deal.  What was the delay?  First, we had to give time for other potential publishers to respond, just like in the query process.  In that time frame, I was able to have a conversion with my editor and get a feel for her vision, which was great. But what really took the most time? The contract itself.

This is the part where I say I am so glad I had an agent. 

I know that lots of people do this without an agent, but I would have had no clue how to read that document nor what was the most important aspect of negotiation, particularly in relationship to rights.

One of the things that became very clear is that it wasn't just having an agent, but having someone you trusted had your best interests in mind, someone who could explain why something was important.

I probably would have signed the first draft because I just wanted to be published so badly. 

And this was a small deal with a smaller publisher on what I perceive is a quiet book.  I can't imagine how complicated it gets with bigger books and bigger deals.

I've said this before in my blogging process, but it's a life lesson that I keep learning over and over.  You need to surround yourself with the right people, the right support and then let them support you.

I'm self-confessed control freak, pretty independent overall, but there's not a stage of the writing and publishing process that hasn't been improved by trusting other people to help me. 

It kind of makes me wonder if I'll ever remember that in other aspects of my life, too. 

How easy is it for you to let go of control?  

Submission Process Part 1: Dante and the waiting game

Previously, I talked about the process of finding an agent (it was long and I made many mistakes). I also wanted to share my experience taking a manuscript to publishers.  I know this will be more valuable for the writers out there, but this process has taught me many lessons about patience and accepting the unexpected.  It's also shaped new ideas about how to measure success.  Perhaps, those will be useful to you. For this post, then, I'll give more of a brief background and move into the lessons next time around. 

When I was querying, it seemed as if  finding an agent was the holy grail.  If I could just land an agent, my path to publication would look like this:

Straight, narrow, and with the perfect final destination. 

Ah, if only.  It probably looks a little more like this:

Rocky, difficult, and with unknown destination.

My agent and I worked for a couple of months to get the manuscript in tip top shape before she sent it off to editors. It was finally official.  I was "on submission," and I was equal parts excited and nervous.  

On the absolutewrite forums, they refer to being on submission as the next circle of hell, and while I wouldn't say it's quite that bad, it's definitely true that being becoming agented is a step toward publication.  Much like writing itself or querying, for some folks, a sale is practically instant.  Others may have to move on to another project. Obviously, an agent won't take you on if they don't think they will be successful, but they can't predict everything either. 

I admit I was relieved to be on submission probably more than anything.  After such a long query process where I had to actively monitor everything, I could just sit back and wait.  And I had to wait a long time. It took us about six months before we got any feedback.  My agent had prepared me for potentially slow responses, but that certainly put a damper on my dreams.  Still, life was busy, and I managed to forget to worry about it for months at a time.  Then my agent and I would touch bases with new rejections (all maddeningly positive, as Jen said).  After a year, though, I pretty much assumed it was time to let it go.  I started talking to Jen about which manuscript to prepare next.  

Like that proverbial watched pot that doesn't boil, the minute I started thinking more about other projects, I got the amazing news about an offer.  

As joyful as it was to get the news, I think all the waiting and the fear made it difficult to fully embrace and accept that it's real.  

Plus, the waiting isn't over.

Stay tuned for Submission Process Part Two: Serious business (and more waiting).  I'll post that next week as part of the Insecure Writer's Group for the first Wednesday of the month. 

In the meantime, does waiting build your anticipation? Are you able to avoid negative thoughts when waiting for news?

The positive side of insecurity

Most folks in my social circle have already heard the good news.  My debut novel will be published in Fall of 2016 by Sky Pony Press.  I am obviously over-the-moon.  It's the big one, right?  Dream come true, bucket list kind of stuff.  It's the end goal of this whole thing, so by definition, it should mean I'm no longer insecure, right?  Well, not exactly.

First of all, despite seeing the announcement in print and even seeing that it's already got a goodreads page, I'm not sure it feels real just yet.  I could say that'll come when there's a cover, but I'm guessing I'll need to see the book in print before reality sets in.  Even then, who knows? 

More than that though, I've been thinking about the very concept of insecurity.  There's the definition most of us use: "An uncertain or anxiety about oneself; lack of confidence" which is what we're all dealing with in these monthly posts and support for each other.  It's rooted in a deep sense of not feeling good enough. 

On the other hand, we can twist this a bit.  Another definition of insecurity is "the state of being open to danger or threat; lack of protection." That's scary, sure, but it implies risk and the potential for reward.  It's about action and putting ourselves out there. 

After I got my agent, I did a series of posts about that process and some lessons learned.  I'm going to do something similar now in describing the submission process and beyond.  I've found that throughout this whole journey, the more I knew about what to expect, the less my insecurity crippled me.  The more I felt okay with being open to danger, so to speak.  

For now I say, embrace your insecurity.  

Keep trying to do things that you may not feel confident doing, that involve risk.  

Definitions

Words are such amazing things—tricky, too.  The very fact that we've used these arbitrary symbols to create such a complex system of communication is fascinating.  Language seems so simple now, right?

And wonderful.  How do you feel when someone utters three easy words, "I love you?"

Except think of the trouble words get us into.  The misunderstanding, the confusion, the anger. 

One of the first things people do when trying to belittle someone is to call them names—to attempt to re-define the other person. A key strategy in controlling others is to manage their language and how they are defined.

Any way we label a person, place, situation, thing, idea, etc. limits how others will view it.  That's true even if it's labels we give ourselves.  How many words do you use to define yourself?  My "twitter" definitions says I am a "wife, mom, college professor, travel planner-extraordinaire, and wanna-be-middle-grade writer." 

What would it mean to move from wanna-be to "writer?"  When is it okay to define yourself as a writer?  Obviously, this isn't a question limited to writing, but as it's the first Wednesday and the month, it seemed like an appropriate topic for the Insecure Writer's Group.

In this case, I think I equate using the label as a definition with being successful at it, not just the act of doing the writing.  That's not something we do with everything right?  I'm a mom even if I'm not a very good one (and I think I'm okay there). 

This is a little nudge to us all that as upset as we can get at the labels others put on us, the ones use on ourselves can be just as problematic. 

Writers, when are you willing to call yourself one? 

Falling

The first Wednesday of the month brings another Insecure Writer's Support Group Post.

I just finished a book I loved from start to finish.  I've read around eight books this summer, and I liked several quite a bit, but this was the first one that I did not want to end but couldn't stop reading at the same time.

It wasn't a terribly complicated story—a very standard contemporary YA (my favorite genre to read though I’m still struggling to write it) with family drama, personal growth, and a little love.  I don't even know if I can explain why it was so much better than the others I've read this summer.  Words, characters, plot.  That's all it is right?  So, why these words, why this plot, why these characters?  

When I finish a book like that, I tend to get a bit contemplative.  First, gosh, I love books.  There is nothing quite like falling into a world someone else created and connecting with everyone in it.  

But then I think, "I could never write that so why bother?"  (Have I said that before?  Seems like it's a common theme in my mind) Or I try to figure out how to adapt my writing to be LIKE that writing which is sometimes like trying to bakery bagel into a toaster.  It's a close fit, but you're bound to burn or break some part in the process.  I just want to figure it out thought so I can give readers the same experience.  

I know I talked about variety last month, and how being authentic is important, and this is along the same vein, but it's more about that magic.  I think that for anything in life to move us the a good book moves me, we have to let go; we have to fall in.  One of the reasons NaNoWriMo has always worked for me is that forces me to stop analyzing and just write.  It puts me into the story more like a reader than a writer.  Of course, that means much editing down the road.

It's not just a writing thing.  My husband is a perfectionist, and he obsesses in advance of every project, so worried that he's going to get it wrong.  He'll tell you that delays the process and gets him so worked up that he sometimes misses the forest for the trees as a result. Then, he's too frustrated with the things that don't go according to plan to enjoy a finished product.  Even when everyone else sees the beauty. 

In the end, passion doesn't lie in thinking about how to do something.  It's in doing it.  

In letting go.  In falling.  

Does reading inspire you or cripple you?  Do you over think process?  If there are non-writers reading, are there ways in which you get tripped up in the process of doing something about which you're passionate?  

Repetition versus repetitive

I've been binge reading the words of a popular author recently.  Obviously, I generally enjoy the books or I would have stopped after the first one.  However, now that I'm like 5 in, I'm seeing patterns that have begun to annoy me as a reader—for example, a very controlling mother and a very fast resolution (too quick to resolve big issues, IMHO) among others.  Readers, viewers, listeners generally like repetition.  People enjoy the familiar and appreciate knowing what to expect.  It's why formula works so well in TV and movies. 

However, it's a fine line, though from repetition to repetitive.  Once that line is crossed though, we move from expectation to boredom.

Doesn't that sound a little like the workplace?  It's nice to know what you're supposed to do from day to day.  It's great when you can feel like you've mastered things, but there's got to be a little zing in there or it becomes so mind-numbingly boring that you spend your days dreaming up extravagant ways to quit.  Or at least watching YouTube videos of people who really did it with flare.  This woman is most certainly, "Gone," for example.  

Or how about your exercise routine?  Why do you think I have umpteen million different work out DVD's in my house AND a gym membership? I bore way too easily.

I'm not saying that life has to be all glitz and glory all the time.  One of the most important lessons I'm constantly telling my kids is that you have to go through some of the boring to get to the good stuff.  Routine ballet class with its focus on skill and repetition must precede winning at dance competitions. 

For that reason, I expect some repetition when reading and writing and even living.  I know there are boring parts to everything we do.  

But as soon as repetition feels too repetitive, the audience is probably lost.  

What are you ruts?  If you write, what are your repetitive habits?  

Variety and the imperfect perfection

I used to be a part of a monthly blog hop called the "Insecure Writer's Group" but I'd been letting that slide.  I valued that experience so I'm "hopping" back in. One of the things I've found most valuable over the years is the way in which my writing lessons have connected to life lessons.  Learning a new skill has given me so much perspective on everything else I've already learned, and I'll carry on that perspective today.

Aspiring writers are told to be voracious readers.  Agents, editors, and fellow writers insist that reading improves writing—makes sense, right?  It gives authors an understanding of market and genre, helps them notice concepts of voice and story development which may either subtly or directly influence one's own writing.

Potentially, reading also changes perspective about your own writing. One of the things that happens when you read a lot is that you don't like every book.  You might even hate some.  It's possible you'll even despite a book that everyone in the world things is the best thing ever written.  You might really enjoy a book or an author who "serious" critics say is too formulaic or sophomoric (or YA or fanfic or "trashy" novels). 

The point is, we all have different expectations and different preferences, right?  As a writer, it lets me off the hook a bit.  Perfection is relative ... to what?  Good is relative to what?  Now, that doesn't mean I advocate writing crap, but it's a good reminder.

As a public speaking teacher, I constantly tell my students that good speaking isn't one-size-fits-all.  It's about being an authentic communicator, about your ethos.  You need to be the best YOU possible even if you have some delivery flubs and or your voice is high-pitched.  It may be what audiences most like about you.

The same goes for writing, it goes for your job and your relationships and your art and your music and your bathroom remodel and everything else under the sun.  The more variety you experience, the more you're able to find yourself in the process. 

Your imperfections are an important part of your voice.

Stitch in time

I had exceptionally high hopes for my run on Saturday. Weather was optimal—a little over 60 degrees, not too sunny, but bright and cheery. I anticipated I'd have a nice 5-6 mile run. Things were going well—nice pace, enjoying the sights and scents of late spring. Then, not even half way though, I got a stitch in my right side. Ouch. I'll just keep going a bit, I thought. 

Sometimes it goes away. It didn't. 

I didn't want to stop and walk because I was coming up to a spot on my path where folks could see me, and I didn't want to admit defeat. Embarrassment can be such a powerful motivator. 

The pain was not subsiding. I decided to walk for a bit. Then the worst happened, the stitch multiplied. I got a second one on my right side. Then, another on my left. With each step, my abs crunched and my whole body tensed. I wasn't sure how I was going to make it home if walking hurt that much. 

 The pain subsided just enough that I started run again—I told the stitch it didn't own me. Now, pissed off, the stitches game back. Of course, at that point, I was in the middle of a bike path. If I called someone to pick me up, I'd still have to make it at least a mile. 

So, I keep going. I ran some. I walked some. I stopped and did some tricep dips. I ran some more. Etc. Eventually, I made it home. No stellar time. Probably more like 4 miles total. But I tried. And again, I made it home. 

There are always going to be stitches. They'll make you change goals and re-assess your vision. Sometimes, for the better, sometimes not. It's okay to go slower or to change direction to work around those challenges. Whether you're writing book, teaching a class, learning a language, baking a cake, building a deck, or fighting for your dream, sometimes, you'll have to start over. 

Sometimes, you'll have to add more flour or delete a whole chapter. 

Eventually, you get where you need to be, if you keep going.

Get by with a little help from some feathers

So, I recently bought myself in a winter coat in which I’m pretty sure I look a little like an over-roasted sta-puffed marshmallow woman (the coat’s black after all).  I’m undecided about whether purchasing such a coat, weather rated to -45 degrees, means that I have finally conquered winter or that it’s actually bested me.  At the end of the day, I don’t care because the dang thing makes me feel like I might possibly survive another year living in Frozen Land (which wouldn’t be so bad if it were like Disney and had talking snowmen and singing trolls).

The thing is, I’m not sure why I held out so long buying a ginormous coat.  Seriously, the thing comes below my knees, and I’m 5’ so it’s kind of comical.  Ask anyone and they will tell you, it’s not like I put on a brave winter face or feel the need to be “tough” about it. I whine and complain ALL THE DANG TIME about how cold I am.  Why wouldn’t I have sought out better ways to manage it sooner?

The more I think about it, the more I realize how often I see people taking the same approach on other things in life.

“I have a headache.”  Did you take anything?  “No.” 

“I’m not sure how to write this paper.”  Did you read the instructions?  Have you gone to the tutoring center?”  “No.”

There are probably a million different reasons why we don’t seek the right support or utilize resources available to us when faced with a problem.  Maybe we’re lazy.  Maybe we don’t care enough.  Maybe we’re afraid to admit we can’t do something alone.

My coat and I are here to say that’s probably not the best way.  I can’t believe how much it has lifted my mood to get in the car and not feel like my entire body was going to turn into an icicle and then break into a million pieces.  Being able to find the right tool to support me has lifted a burden in a way. 

It’s also served as a reminder that we all sometimes need a little help.  Maybe from friends and family.  Maybe from co-workers. Maybe from fellow-writers.  Maybe from a therapist. Maybe from 600 fill-power down insulation.

Whatever you need, maybe it’s time to accept a little help.    

Be a tree.

Every once a great long while, I write a little letter to one of my kids and save it.  I had always intended for it to be this great volume that they'd get to read on graduation or something.  All kinds of life wisdom imparted as well as a general sense of knowing how loved they were through the busyness of life.  Well, my volume is pretty thin as I seem to remember about once a year, if that.  I managed to set some words to paper last week, and I came across this nugget for several years back written for Grace.

11/24/04

“Sometimes it’s good to be the tree.”

The other night, we read The Giving Tree. As usual I cried.  I’m not sure I have ever read that story without tears streaming down my face.  I don’t think I’d read it since becoming a parent though.  Bill looked at me and suddenly said, “Oh he wrote that book about his mom, didn’t he?”  It made so much sense. 

Later, we put you to bed.  You were fighting it, as always.  At one point, you grabbed my head and pulled me close so my head was resting on your face.  I admit, I wasn’t very comfortable.  I looked over at Bill, and said, “Sometimes it’s good to be the tree.” 

Some people get mad when they read The Giving Tree.  It's easy to focus on how much the boy takes the tree for granted.  And I know as a parent, I sure empathize with that sentiment.  But at least in the month of Thanksgiving as we move into what I hope is a reflective and joyous time of year, I am going to focus on being grateful for the trees in my life.  A mom who never declines a request to pick up my kids and folds about 90% of my laundry.  A husband who puts up with all the ways I add "busy" to our lives. Friends who are always willing help with the kid shuffle.  Without support none of us would grow into strong trees ourselves.  To be there for our kids and friends and other family members when they need us.  As strange as it sounds, at least today, I'm also going to appreciate the opportunity to be taken for granted.  

I like being a tree. 

And if we are all trees, then we become a forest. 

"And the tree was happy."

How NaNoWriMo is like Life.

I'm back!  This year, I'm serving as Interim Associate Dean, so my writing life has been fairly limited, but I'm preparing for that to come to an end in December, so I'm trying to put my mind back into writing mode.  As everyone gears up for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) in a few days, I reflected on my own Nano experiences.  The goal is simple:  Write at least 50,000 words of a novel in a month.  Ultimately, all three of my completed novels were largely composed during either NaNoWriMo or a Camp NaNo. So, I came up with three "tips" for successfully NaNo'ing that also apply to everyday 

1. Just write.  Don’t think.  It’s counter intuitive to many writers because it’s hard to imagine not editing as you go, but sometimes it really is good to get it all down on paper.  There will be times when are sure that everything you’re writing is pure crap, and you’re certain there will be no way to salvage it.  In fact, I felt that way EVERY time.  But it’s worth it just to get those words on paper.  So many of them.  50,000 of them!  It’s something to work with.

That’s the day to day of life isn’t it?  Just get busy doing instead of planning and second guessing.  You’ll make dumb mistakes but there will likely be more good than bad by the time you’re done.

2.  Take time before you review. Agents say they get bombarded with folks who submit their novels in December, clearly not having been through any editing.  I actually suggest not editing that novel right away.  Give it a few weeks (I usually wait up to 6 months before opening a Nano novel).  I’m too close to it after that intense writing.  I wouldn’t be able to see the forest for the trees. 

We’re so quick to want to critique/correct that we don’t always give ourselves time to just bask in the accomplishment, to let things settle. Sometimes, we do things that me might immediately regret, but time may alter our perception.

3.  Support each other.  The very best part of NaNo is that we're all in it together.  From Twitter (#NaNoWriMo) or #nano) to Facebook groups to official NaNoWriMo forums to local writing groups, there are like-minded people everywhere who are struggling.  They will be your cheerleaders!  You can sprint together and whine together and celebrate the end together.  You may find some of those same people become part of your general writing circle when it's over.  So, be sure to cheer them on, too.

Life is not a solo adventure either.  Find people to join on the journey who support you and lift you up.  Let go of those who don't.  But don't forget that you need to be there for others, too. 

Happy writing, happy living! 

Call for Papers: Contributions to Lost Girls and Teen Dreams: Constructions of Gender in Children’s and Young Adult Texts: EXTENDED DEADLINE!

I know I've got YA readers out there, and I'm sure there some academics too, so I thought I'd share.  And bonus points in the comments if can identify the source of all six symbols!

Tricia Clasen (contributor to Bitten By Twilight and Heroines in Comics and Literature) and Holly Hassel (Contributor to Of Bread, Blood and The Hunger Games: Critical Essays on the Suzanne Collins Trilogy and co-author of The Critical Companion to JK Rowling) call for proposals for essays to be included in an upcoming anthology focused on gender in young adult literature and popular culture. We have an interested publisher but require a full prospectus for a confirmed contract.

It's not you; it's me.

"It's not you; it's me."  Class break-up line right? Maybe even cringe-worthy.  

We tend to think of it as an excuse when people don't know what else to say, but maybe that's a bit harsh because it's often true.  It doesn't mean there's anything wrong with either of you; you're just not necessarily right for each other. 

What about this one?  "If I'd just met you sooner…"  or "I'd totally marry you in ten years". Yeah, it doesn't feel any better, but think house hunting.  Maybe this particularly house would be great in five years, but it doesn't work for you today because of some circumstance--proximity to a school or an infant that needs a room close to a master bedroom.  Ultimately people's needs change. 

That brings me to Query Lesson #3. Whether we're searching for a house, a job, a friend, love, or an agent, sometimes, two things drive the match:  "fit" and "timing."