Nearly two years after I left my profession to write full time, I finally got around to cleaning out my closet. My new boss—me—is a lot laxer on the dress code. So, I should have done it months ago. The experience reminded me of a couple of life lessons I clearly have...
Watching the animals that pass through our backyard gives me great insight into myself and human nature overall. With spring inching its way in, the songbirds are returning to build their nests. As a research-addicted, procrastinating author, with a BS in Biology, I could not help but watch a video of a robin building her nest. It occurred to me that the process has a lot to teach us about building our lives.
I check the weather report every morning. It will come as no surprise to anyone who knows me that I do not simply listen to the report on the news. I check the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s National Weather Service website. Doesn’t everyone? I’m not planning to scale Mt. Rainier or do a little ocean kayaking. I just want to pick the best time for a walk and make sure I am dressed appropriately. Imagine my delight today, when I read 46° F and increasing clouds. Even with the windchill, it would still be above freezing. . .
Last spring, I wanted to be Fredrik Backman. I don’t mean famous. Or Swedish. Or brilliant. Or a guy. No, I wanted to be the writer whose words could cause a quinquagenarian former high school principal, not prone to emotional outbursts, to weep openly in an auto repair shop full of men to awkwardly examine the ceiling tiles while praying for their trucks to be done soon.
I’ve been devouring his work. His novels knot my heart and mind until I can’t unravel where all the feelings start. I have to pause and do that Navy Seal breathing strategy from TikTok just to be able to analyze how he can turn ten ordinary words into a tornado of universally felt emotion. I read three of his novels before I realized that I’ve been thinking about this all wrong. And not just because I cannot actually be Fredrik Backman.
I am reconceptualizing my goal modeled roughly after a dog show.
“The bluest skies you’ve ever seen in Seattle." That lyric, from Bobby Sherman’s theme song to Here Come the Brides, has been stuck in my head since I was five years old. It is so true and so not true. And I am grateful that it is both. Last night, my husband and I...
The concept of re-inventing oneself seems consummately American to me. As the grandchild and great-grandchild of immigrants, this idea, that I am not now all that I can be, was not merely passed down through generations of storytellers but branded on my heart and...
Louise Penny once wrote, “Things are strongest where they’re broken.” There are so many jewels sprinkled throughout Penny’s writing. Sentences formed without adornment that illuminate a feeling or belief so genuine and universal you wonder why you hadn’t thought to...
The WFWA writing retreat in Albuquerque was an amazing week of learning and growth. A retreat is a powerful way to advance your writing. What’s my strategy to get the most out of it? Remove, Engage, Think, Realize, Elicit, Aspire, Tangle and Scribble
All of this made me think about how I am spending my time. I got caught on the phrase: spending time. If you think about it, spend is technically correct but indistinct. It doesn’t really say anything about value . . . The value of time is not like that of money. You can’t bank time, make more, or spend it later. Time is marching on. Whether with intention or not, we are going to spend it. How we spend it matters.
Years ago, I knew a talented young woman full of joy and promise. She was an artist. As I had primarily studied the sciences, I didn’t always understand her. We both had creative, flexible minds but her thought path was like a fast-growing vine covering a skyscraper....