routines and a fall playlist

Hello, hello.

After a chaotic start to October, I've settled into a good writing routine. It's lasted two days so far. Ha! But I'm counting that. The key for me is to put my blinders on and get my writing done first thing after the kids have left for school. Sometimes* I even have to leave the house or I'll start another load of laundry, make the bed, check emails, put away clothes and before you know it, I have an organized house but no writing done. And we can't have that, can we?

What about you? Do you have any wisdom you can share for sticking with a routine?

Here's a link to my FALL 2013 Spotify playlist I've been listening to. To cheer me up, to set a mood for writing a difficult scene, and everything in between. As usual, some new, some old. The last song is the soundtrack for the goat video I posted on Instagram. Email me if you don't do Spotify and I'll hook you up.

FALL 2013

1. Blurry-eyed Worries :: BRONZE RADIO RETURN
2. Analog or Digital :: WILDLIFE CONTROL
3. Knock Knock :: BAND OF HORSES
4. How Come You Don't Want Me :: TEGAN AND SARA
5. Blue Ice :: SHOUT OUT LOUDS
6. 1999 :: SHOUT OUT LOUDS
7. Junk of the Heart (Happy) :: THE KOOKS
8. The Way You Are :: 46BLISS
9. All My Life :: DJ HARRY
10. Lost and Found :: ADRIENNE PIERCE
11. Farther Along :: JOSH GARRELS
12. The Giving Tree :: THE AUTUMN FILM
13. Look At What the Light Did Now :: LITTLE WINGS
14. Death of an Interior Decorator :: DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE
15. A Lack of Color :: DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE
16. Yeah Yeah Yeah :: THE SOUNDS
17. WIsh You Were Hear :: THE SOUNDS
18. Bloom :: THE VEILS
19. Drive Darling :: BOY
20. Little Numbers :: BOY

*No, not sometimes. ALWAYS.

on living my "one wild and precious life”

The Summer Day

by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?

This grasshopper, I mean-

the one who has flung herself out of the grass,

the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,

who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-

who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.

Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.

I don't know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,

how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,

which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

You've probably heard that I've been mysteriously ill since February, a condition I will heretofore refer to only as the Plague. No one seems to be able to figure out what's causing my symptoms or how to treat them. Basically, I feel like I have the flu most of the time. Weak. Dizzy. Nauseated. Sometimes I pass out when I stand up. Sometimes that happens at church, as I'm trying to stealthily sneak out of Gospel Doctrine to have a coughing fit in peace.

Since February, I've lost a lot of weight. As great as that sounds, I've also lost a lot of hair. Flat warts have spread all over my face. My cognitive ability has been effected as well. Which means I've had a bad case of ADD, burning dinners, forgetting children, and creating chaos. Not to mention the writer's block. It's been a horrible nine months.

And yet.

The best months of my life, too. The Plague, along with a bony bum, brittle hair and warty face, has brought me a decadent array of the richest blessings. More than I can understand or comprehend. More time for listening and being still. More time for reasoning together. More time for reading (and discovering the poet Mary Oliver, another blessing). More time pondering mortality and the purpose of my precious life. More time to hear the wind blow low and whisper through the pines and to watch dark clouds roll over  mountain peaks and more time to sit in the glow of a rainbow sherbet sunset.

More bowing and knee bending.

Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

I don't know if I'll fully recover physically. But inside, I am brand new. For now, when I wake up, I look out my window and like Mary Oliver, I say: good morning, good morning, good morning. I'm going to put my lips to the world and live my life.


Mornings at Blackwater
by Mary Oliver

For years, every morning, I drank
from Blackwater Pond.
It was flavored with oak leaves and also, no doubt,
the feet of ducks.

And always it assuaged me
from the dry bowl of the very far past.

What I want to say is
that the past is the past,
and the present is what your life is,
and you are capable
of choosing what that will be,
darling citizen.

So come to the pond,
or the river of your imagination,
or the harbor of your longing,

and put your lips to the world.
And live
your life.

white bean hummus

why white beans and not garbanzo beans? because garbanzo beans have a sort of gross flavor that no one ever wants to talk about. but here is a mild, delicious, clean-tasting hummus that even picky eaters will happily dive into.

(2 things about cooking beans: 1. feel free to cook your beans however you're used to—in the slow cooker or regular stove pot. i use my pressure cooker because it's 2 1/2 hours faster than the next fastest method. this is a recipe for white bean hummus, though. not an instructional on how to use a pressure cooker. if you don't have one or don't know how to use one, just cook your beans in a way you're comfortable with. 2. there is a long-standing old wive's tale that says you can't cook beans with salt or they'll be tough. NOT TRUE! i cook beans at least twice a week and always add salt. it does increase the cooking time, so plan on that, but this is an important cooking tip to remember, especially if you're cooking beans for chili or something like that. it's lovely to have a bean that's salted all the way through and not just the skin.)

white bean hummus
makes 6 cups

1 pound dry white beans (such as great northern beans), soaked in bowl over night
2 tablespoons sea salt
2 tablespoons olive oil

Drain beans. Place ingredients in pressure cooker, cover with fresh water and pressure cook for 3 minutes. Let pressure drop of its own accord.

Drain beans again and set aside. In a food processor, chop:

2 cloves garlic

Then add:

beans
2 tablespoons tahini (i leave this out all the time. my kids prefer it without, so if you can't find it, or are new to tahini, you can omit it too.)
juice of 2 lemons (or about 1/2 cup fresh lemon juice)
1/2 cup olive oil
1/2 cup water
1 1/2 teaspoons sea salt

Process until smooth. Divide into containers and freeze any portions you won't use right away. Lasts about 5 days in the refrigerator. I always double this recipe and blend it in the food processor in two batches. Less work, more food!

My favorite snack is just the right size to sneak into my No Food Allowed library for a writing day.

let's talk about lunch, baby. let's talk about you and me.

owl moon bento. i entered this lunch into a contest to win a new stainless steel planetbox lunch box yesterday. sadly, i didn't win, but i did have quite a few people on the 100 DAYS OF REAL FOOD blog and facebook page ask lots of questions about this lunch, so i thought i'd answer them all in one place.

1. how do you get everything to stay in place?

easy! i just fold a cloth napkin right over the top of the owl sandwich press the lid on. my daughter rides her bike to school (a little over 2 miles with her lunch bouncing around in her backpack and turned sideways) and then her lunch gets thrown in a giant bin with all her classmates. after quite a bit of jostling and shaking, she reported back to me that it looked exactly the same when she opened it up on the lunch table. good to know! another trick i sometimes pull out of my lunch-making hat is to use cream cheese or peanut butter as glue. 

2. the feathers? are those almonds? how do they stay in place? what about nut allergies!?

yes. i used sliced almonds. it took about 33 seconds to place them all on the bread. about one second per almond slice. whew! if you have a nut-free school, i think it'd be cute to use some fruit leather cut in the shape of wings. at our school, there is a table in the lunchroom designated as the nut-free zone.

3. how much time did this take?

less than 3 minutes. it took about the same amount of time it would have if i was making most of the other lunches in the contest and here's why: packing the lunches is one of the jobs i give my kids. (i have four minions to do my bidding). 

how i did it:

1. placed leftover kale salad and blueberries into the lunch boxes

2. sliced the radishes.

3. assembled the sandwich, using leftover herbed turkey from the night before and cut it with a round cookie cutter (cutting the sandwich takes less than 5 seconds and i save the bread scraps to make croutons for chef salad, which i burned tonight and then threw in the garbage).

4. MEANWHILE (and here's the secret to my success) my daughter cut the radishes into stars and used different sizes of round cookie cutters to make the moon and eyes.

5. i was going to use sliced olives for the pupils but realized we were out so i cut a sheet of nori seaweed with scissors.

6. i didn't want to do the almond feathers, but she really wanted to, so i let her lay them onto the sandwich while i filled up 4 water bottles.

honestly it took about 10 times MORE time to shoot the picture, upload it, edit it and post it to the contest than it did to make the lunch.

4. wow. you must have a lot of fancy gadgets to put this lunch together.

they are fancy! and you can be fancy too! i got the lunch box at target. it's ziploc brand, called the divided rectangle, and it's sold in pairs for about $3. the cheese was cut using a set of circle cutters i bought on amazon. and the stars were cut with a play-do cutter that came in a set i got about 9 years ago when my oldest daughter still played with play-do. 

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and that wraps up our FAQ on the owl moon bento. but you know me. there's a few more things we should discuss. but i'll kindly pepper the rest of my post with pictures of past lunches, in the hopes that it will inspire you and distract you from the ranty tone of the rest of this post.

i occasionally post pictures on facebook and instagram of the lunches i make. and i haven't ever said anything, but i get REALLY BOTHERED by some of the comments.

this lunch looks great, but what does it look like by lunch time?

so glad you asked. i'll answer that by asking a question: you know i'm making these lunches to be eaten, right? ALL THE LUNCHES ARE DESTROYED BY THE TIME LUNCH IS OVER ANYWAY. regardless, i am pretty good at packing things tightly so that they are still presentable at lunch time any way.

but this brings up a second issue. i'd make lunches like these anyway even if they were destroyed by lunch time, because for me, i find joy in the process of creation. packing lunches used to be something i hated like i hate laundry and scrubbing toilets. now it's one of my favorite parts of the day. and it's even better because i get to share that time with my kids and they're part of the process as well.

which brings me to my third issue with this comment. i don't think the value of any type of art diminishes based on the permanence of the artwork. in other words, it's the process of creation that gives art value, not how long the art lasts. i have a favorite quote by picasso: "art washes from the soul the dust of every day life." for me, i find an incredible amount of joy working with my kids in the morning and making something beautiful and healthy. i'm nourishing bodies and souls.

i don't have time to do decorative/elaborate lunches like that.

oh really? last time i checked, we all lived on the same planet, which means we all have 24 hours in a day. what i hear when someone makes a comment like that is really: "you should have better/more important things to do with your time like i do." what we do with our time is a CHOICE. we're not victims, locked into a set schedule everyday. and i like to remember that saying "yes" to one thing means saying "no" to something else. maybe i get up earlier than you. maybe i watch less tv than you. maybe my house is messier than yours. maybe my clothes are more wrinkled than yours because i let them sit in the dryer for 5 days. maybe i'm smellier because i skipped showering to have time to make these lunches. i am busy all day long just like most of you. i have four busy kids. i write novels. i design. i make 3 meals a day for 6 people. i volunteer at my church. i wash about 17 loads of laundry a week. i make my own bread and yogurt. i coach my son's soccer team. i take meals to my friends when they're sick. we all have to prioritize based on what we think is most important. for me, creating is important so i prioritize it. even if i'm doing it with school lunches. and i think it's fine if that's not one of your things, too. i'm sure you're saying yes to something really valuable when you say no to spending time making a lunch like mine.

you're so lucky that your kids aren't picky

i don't think i'm lucky so much as persistent and vigilant. i'm the parent. i'm the lioness at the gate. i buy the food in the house. if the kids haven't finished something in their lunch, they eat it for a snack when they get home. hungry kids just might surprise you with what they'll eat. 

be happy. a good note to end on.

the plague of 2013, or why i just spent $60.00 for a 16 oz. bottle of the most disgusting thing i've ever tasted

oh hai. that's me in the photo above. gazing longingly at the trail i used to run. back when i could, you know, run and not be weary. take note of my scapula/bird wings beneath my highly attractive green jacket.

i'm sick. was sick. for a few weeks in january, after which i enjoyed a brief week of supreme health, then a dive into the health pits of despair. hereafter to be known as the plague of 2013.

by the numbers [since i'm remembering fondly the past years in which i was preparing 800 tax returns right about now and i miss working with numbers all day every day. <--- a lie]:

1, 2, 3, 4 and FIVE: number of different types of antibiotics i have consumed.

4: number of night terrors about murder caused by the meds. [why do i always dream that my loved ones are murderers?! why?]

2: number of CT scans I had performed.

7: number of feet tall the giant radiologist named leroy who did my CT scans was.

3: number of blood tests ran.

134: amount i weighed in january.

116: amount i weigh today.

121: amount i weighed when i got married.

116: amount i weighed when my nickname was skeletor and a frenemy spread a rumor at school that i was anorexic.

1: number of times my pants FELL OFF whilst i was errand running. my skinny jeans are baggy. MY SKINNY JEANS ARE BAGGY.

3: number of minutes i can stand without feeling like my muscles are going to collapse.

1: number of days i have left to take antibiotics #4 and #5.

>2,000: number of dollars i have spent in doctor's offices, hospitals, massage therapists, and pharmacists.

and guess what? still not feeling great. at all. which is why i bought this today:

didn't blink an eye at the $60.00 price tag. i bought the biggest bottle they had. chugged the suggested dosage of one tablesoon. and then i blinked an eye. or maybe it was more of a fluttering twitch of several rapid blinks because i can tell you for certain. MOST GROSS THING I'VE EVER TASTED OR WILL EVER TASTE. more gross than that weird black indian candy my friend brought back from audi arabia in 7th grade. (that was the second most gross). more gross than castor oil.

guys, it's so gross. of course it's gross. what can you expect with the 3 main ingredients being raw garlic, raw honey, and raw apple cider vinegar? and i'm supposed to chug a tablespoon an hour. how, i don't know, but i'm going to do it if it kills me. unless the plague kills me first.

if i die, i would like to leave my book collection to brook. and i would like my unfinished novels to be completed by my sister angela and her husband and published posthumously. please try not to make them too funny or people will know it wasn't really me writing them. i would like my organs donated. and i would like my sister anna to come clean my desk and basement and throw away my free write journals before anyone else goes through my things.

goodbye for now, cruel world.

but i thought you finished your book.

when i finished the first draft of my second novel, i joyfully told EVERYONE I KNEW. the same way you'd tell everyone if you'd completed a marathon. or graduated from college. or, you know, BIRTHED A CHILD.

it was a great accomplishment and a triumphant moment. but then something kept happening. people started asking me the same question. it started about a week after i'd finished the first draft. in passing conversation, i happened to mention that i was spending about 6 hours a day writing. and this dear person, who probably loves me more than anyone else in the world, asked me:

but i thought you'd finished your book?

then same thing happened again with someone else. and then again. and it hit me: there MIGHT be a couple of things that the normal person doesn't understand about writing, or writers, or maybe just about me. and of course it falls on my shoulders to correct this injustice.

and so. two things. first: writing is rewriting. i've never heard of any published novelist who wrote a perfect first draft and never changed a thing. many writers i know spend AT LEAST as much time revising as they do first-drafting. i'm no different. it took me about nine months to write the first draft, but that was writing about 1 hr a day. and i suspect it'll take me about that many hours to rewrite and revise until i feel like it's ready for the publishing world.

and here's the other thing. even when i am done with this second novel, even when it feels complete and like it's as good as i can make it on my own, even if it gets published, EVEN IF IT NEVER GETS PUBLISHED, even then i'll still be writing. because it turns out i love it, and it makes me feel alive and energized and there are so many stories i have to tell.

and i have a sneaking suspicion that even after i die, i'll still be making up stories. i'm just not sure the publishing process will be the same in heaven.

follow my pinterest board here to see the image sources from above and to see what's inspiring my next story.

from whence writing ideas come

where do you get your ideas?

i'm not certain, but i believe that most published authors get asked this a lot more than any other question. [this assumption, of course, is based on what i've heard and read as i've relentlessly stalked the lives of my favorite authors, both online and in person.]

well, it's your lucky day because i'm here to tell you where we get our ideas and where you can get them too! they come from a section in target, near the seasonal items, always on the bottom shelf, in boxes labeled "really awesome story ideas".

not amused, huh? okay, seriously, i've heard authors answer this in a lot of ways.

some try to be funny, i think it was steven king who joked with fans that he gets his ideas at walmart. THAT IS JUST ONE MORE REASON NOT TO SHOP THERE, PEEPS.

i've heard authors answer arrogantly: i make them up, duh. my ideas come from my brain. which is totally not helpful.

but those authors are kind of also, annoyingly, right. you need to create ideas. but there's a process i learned to follow for getting those ideas, and it worked really well for the novel i'm working on right now and it starts with making a list.

raise your hand if you like making lists as much as i do. okay, now go grab a notebook or open up a new word doc and start making a list.

people
think about people who are interesting to you. not people you want to be like, or admire, but people that are in situations or do things that make you think big thoughts. when i did this, i listed people like: homeless bums. (why are they homeless? do they like it? are they ashamed?) people who live double lives (i love the idea of keeping a secret. are they doing it to protect someone? to avoid getting caught?) addicts (the idea of someone who feels so intensely that they must buffer the sensations of the world is so interesting to me).

now make a list of the last ten people who did something to hurt you. go ahead. savor those resentments. ha! no really, don't dwell on past wrongs, but just remember those people. thinking about people who hurt you opens up your heart to pain, but it also opens it up to ideas, i think. when i did this, i could only think of five people who have ever hurt me in my entire life. i don't know what this means. but moving on...

places
make a list of places that you consider spiritual homes. places you feel the most serene, the most calm, the most in tune with the universe. THERE'S A REASON BOTH MY BOOKS HAVE REFERENCES TO CITRUS GROVES.

now make a list of places that scare you. tall cliffs? dark forests? suffocating small towns? see how this works?

concepts
now make a list of themes or concepts that engage your mind. your list could be single words or paragraphs or more. one word or idea may spark more. make yourself continue listing for at least 15 minutes. i especially love the story and themes of THE PRODIGAL SON. on my list i have things like: self loathing, redemption, jealousy, betrayal, secrecy, revenge, vindication. these are the things juicy stories are made of.

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if you're like me, or have the heart of a potential writer inside you, by this point characters or places or ideas have coalesced or combined or generated in your own mind the seed of a story idea.

once i have the seed of an idea, i move on to brainstorming, which sparks a future blog post idea. for another day, peeps, another day.

at least that's how it worked for me. i'd love to hear where your ideas come from.

breathe deep

[image source]

hello friends. it's been an interesting couple of weeks. and by interesting i mean it's been horrible and i would just love a redo. too much yelling and anger and unkindness coming from my mouth these last weeks. because, in case you don't already know this about me, i am easily overwhelmed. even something like seeing the peaches from my peach tree smashed on the sidewalk [because i was too sick to pick them and so they fell off and are now infested with earwigs] is enough to make me crumple to the ground and start weeping because this world is all just too much. i am not joking.

friends, you are amazing. i see the kind of things you are dealing with and i am in awe at your courage and strength.

i am floored. stopped frozen in my tracks. friends, this life can be brutal. we suffer with addictions and want to claw out of our own skin. staying sober feels impossible. our fathers abandon us. our mothers get sick and we become their caretakers when we are still babies ourselves. our loved ones are addicts who cannot or will not recover and we watch them kill themselves in slow motion. our mothers--the life of our parties--die too soon. our children get sick or struggle to make friends and are called disgusting because their skin is not the same color as everyone else's. our husbands go crazy, literally. our organs are so messed up that the team of doctors who will be operating on us want to put us in medical journals. and some of us have our innocence stolen from us and carry that unclean feeling with us for a lifetime.

unspeakable.

in the quiet heart is hidden sorrow that the eye can't see.

i have spent some time these last couple weeks crumpling. i've been grieving life's adversities--mine and yours--as they come, because this is what it means to be me. i cannot swallow things down or shrug them away, much as i have tried. and whether the suffering is mine or yours, i feel it all the same. this is why i would make an excellent addict. i'd be the best freaking addict ever. and yet, when i am like this, i know i'm doing it right. i'm not using drugs or alcohol or reading or food or exercise or religion or work to buffer the pain. i've learned to just open up my heart let it come. because if i can keep my heart open, then the good stuff gets in too. the beautiful things, the blessings, the tender mercies.

and there are many. here is something i know: for every sorrow, every horror, every unjustice we live with in this life, god will make up the difference. he gives us the ability to handle the burdens, he blesses us a hundred fold in other ways and at other times to compensate. there will always be enough love and approval and grace for us in this life because of him. he pours out peace to our hearts, gives us friends to share our sorrows with, and when that is not enough, he gives us sunsets. rainbows.

sometimes even double rainbows. or triple rainbows. of course he does.

and god shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

friends, being a person who feels intensely means that i have the capacity to love ferociously. you are my people and i freaking love you. so, i thought i'd show that love to you using my love languages: quality time and receiving gifts [and please keep that in mind for me in the future]:

i have another playlist to share with you. this one i've taken great care to curate. most of the songs are peaceful and gentle because i think we need that right now. don't you? a few have a little more pep, but mostly, these are songs to sit with and be still.

breathe deep.

and then email me if you'd like me to share the actual mp3 files. otherwise, you can listen to this on spotify here. there are a few more songs on my spotify playlist than listed below, because i only own songs that i paid for. got it?

fall 2012 playlist: for my peeps who face life with courage and strength

1.Always | Digits
2. Ships On The Ocean Floor | The Autumn Film
3. The Stable Song | Gregory Alan Isakov
4. Breezeblocks | Alt-J
5. One Hundred Million Years | M. Ward
6. Catch | The Cure
7. Middle Of June | Noah Gundersen
8. Hear the Noise... | James Vincent McMorrow
9. Kingdom Come | The Autumn Film
10. Heart & Bones | The Pines
11. Lions in Cages | Wolf Gang
12. Mended | The Autumn Film
13. Hurts Like Heaven | Coldplay
14. Cold Feet | Lost Lander
15. Drown | Smashing Pumpkins
16. Beggar In The Morning | The Barr Brothers
17. Blood | Middle East
18. Something Good | Alt-J
19. Weather To Fly | Elbow
20. Animal Life | Shearwater

love you.

how to find a writing group

you guys! i'm really excited about this post. if the exclamation point doesn't convey that to you, then how about all caps? I'M REALLY EXCITED! most people, when they find out i'm writing, and they are thinking about it too, they will inevitably ask how i found my critique group. i often answer that question by saying "tell the universe you are writing and your critique group will just come to you." which leaves them staring, unblinking at me, and me just shrugging my shoulders thinking, well it totally worked for me.

today i have one of my partners, olivia, doing a much better job of explaining how it really works. there's some great advice here, friends!

and to answer your second question, no, you cannot join our writing group. we've found that the number 3 works pretty good for us, just the right number to be efficient, but still allow for more than one opinion. every group is different though. don't panic or feel needy. the universe has enough for you and that means there are enough critique partners for you. they will come along if you do EXACTLY what olivia says.

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It started in January 2009. I was ashamed & hid it from everyone I knew. Even my husband. 

I didn’t confess to him for 4 months & I didn’t tell anyone else until well into the end of the year. By that point it had become so all consuming and obvious I just had to admit it out loud.

I had started WRITING…

And that, my friends, is first step to finding support in your shared addiction of writing, or in other words HOW TO FIND AN EXCELLENT WRITING GROUP. 

Because nothing beats the coming together of other like-minded, obsessed, crazy people like yourself. Let alone the leaps and bounds your writing will take for the better.

So, step #1, friends?

1. CONFESS

To be able to find a writing group you MUST tell people you are writing. You may have NO friends that are writing. I didn’t. But when I finally told them I was writing it led to a friend who knew a friend who was looking for a writing group. Which lead her to introduce me to some of the most kindred spirits I’ve ever known, Rachel & Meagan.

All because I grew a pair and said it out loud.

2. GO WHERE WRITERS ARE

This is not always easy. My first step was taking a “continuing education” class through a local University. (This is what finally prompted me to tell my husband I had been writing. I couldn’t exactly explain away my missing for 3 hours every Wednesday night). But if a small group like that is intimidating there is also a plethora of writing conferences you could check out. Those usually have a large group of people, great advice, and time to chat & network if you want. And, you’d be surprised, but just writing at Barnes and Noble A LOT of people will come up & ask us if we are writing or what we are writing. Most writing groups I know meet at Barnes & Noble.

I’m not saying go & eavesdrop on neighboring tables, but go ahead & eavesdrop on neighboring tables. Just not ours. 

3. CHEMISTRY

Like love, a great writing group has to have chemistry. This isn’t something you can really know until you try a group out & see if you have that “je ne sais quoi”. I have tried two other writing groups besides my magical combination of Rachel, Meagan & I. The other ones verged on miserable. But don’t give up.

Because, like love, you might get the perfect match on the first try, but most of us have to search around a little bit before you find your soul mate.

4. LIKE-MINDED INDIVIDUALS

Notice I didn’t say people who are “like” you. Or people who are writing the same thing as you. But people who are “like-minded”. My writing group is half therapy session/half writing. Because we have some similar experiences we can vent about what’s hard/craptastic/lame in life, get it out of our system and out of our brains. That, my friends, makes space for the onslaught of creativity, tinged with insanity that is writing. We are also in similar places writing-wise. Well, not so much me, but I am content with riding the coattails of my more brilliant counterparts for a bit.

And, what I believe is the most important step to finding a writing group is to….

5. WRITE

Write your little heart out. Whether you have a support system of writers yet or not. Just keep on plugging the words out. The group & the help will come eventually, but to be ready for them you must have your words down. Your heart all in. Because the biggest thing about writing is that it can be all consuming, all encompassing, all engrossing. You have to throw your chips all in. Go for broke. 

And when you find people who are ready to go for broke along with you, then you will have found that soul mate of a writing group. 

how bob ross gives me the faith to keep writing

“Art glows with faith even in its weakest parts. At every moment, writing is an act of self-confidence – the sheerest, most determined, most stubborn self-belief. You CAN have faith and doubt at the same time; the most insecure writer on the planet has faith that shines just as bright as her doubt, and she deserves props for that. It might be hidden deep, she might not feel it and you might not see it, but it’s in there, or she wouldn’t be able to write.”   - Kristin Cashore

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friends let me tell you a little secret.

it takes a lot of courage to say i want to be a writer.

it takes even more courage to say i want to be a writer more than i want to spend time with friends, or organize that drawer, or visit a neighbor, or volunteer at the kids' school, or contribute to my family's finances. when i write, there is a list of a 1,000 other things i could be doing with those hours. i look at that list in my mind's eye every day when i sit down to write. and i have to take fresh courage every day.

do you think when bob ross set up camp in front of his canvas he said, "what will so and so think of me, wasting this time on such an unworthy pursuit?"

no. he said, "i believe we're all creators and that the joy of creation is reason enough to make something. creating brings joy to your heart. come, paint with me for an hour and see what i'm talking about."

or at least that's what i think he said. something like that.

so when i start to doubt myself, and wonder if i'm wasting the days of my life on an empty pursuit, i remember what he said.

believe that you can do it. this is your world. make happy mistakes. you can do anything. you're full of power. you're the creator.

we have a winner

the drawing for my marked-up ARC of RAVEN BOYS is complete. congratulations to Lili who says that maggie stiefvater is one of her favorite authors of all time. yay! me too. enjoy your book, lili and look for an email from me. i'll stick your book in the mail as soon as i have your address.

milking almonds + super smoothie recipes

"you can milk anything with nipples." -greg focker

i milk my almonds. and by that i mean i make my own almond milk, and this is why:

1. at least one of my kids has a dairy allergy.

2. the boxes of soy/rice/almond etc. are full of things i don't want my kids drinking, just like milk!

3. it's cheaper, about 1/4 the price, than buying the commercially-made almond milk if i buy my nuts in bulk at costco or through green smoothie girl.

the secrets of making really good almond milk:

1. soak 1 cup almonds for at least 24 hours in a bowl covered in water. less time than this and you'll have watery milk. gross. i want it white and rich and creamy. i think you do too.

2. add drained, soaked almonds and 3 cups water to a blender.

3. blend for at least a minute.

4. strain with a fine mesh sieve. you don't need any fancy nut milk bags or cheese cloth. trust me on this, or you will be sorry and cleaning up a big mess.

5. i set the bowl i soaked the almonds in on top of the strainer to press out the liquid. i let it sit while i do another job in the kitchen and then come back to it about 5 minutes later. i only have to press a few times. i've saved the solids sometimes, adding thyme and salt and using it as a topper on a sliced tomato and cucumber. i've also heard you can dehydrate them and grind them into almond meal. that would save a lot of money if you use a lot of almond meal. i have never done this because time is precious and i'll die one day and i'd rather just buy the almond meal. but you could, or i could if i needed to be more frugal. anyway...

6. don't add any sweeteners. it's delicious without it.

7. drink it within two days. it's like manna; it doesn't last.


and now, i want to share two excellent smoothie recipes, both featuring delicious almond milk as the base. around these parts, we have green smoothies most days. we usually stick to water+frozen festival fruit blend+banana+spinach+kale.

but lately i've been branching out, to great success! here are two smoothies that will fill your bellies with loads of superfood nutrition and an added boost of energy that kicks in around afternoon when most people are nodding off on the job.

super power chocolate berry smoothie
serves 1

1 1/2 cups almond milk
4 cups spinach

blend well, then add:

1 to 2 tablespoons raw cacao*
1/4 banana
1 cup frozen blueberries
1/4 teaspoon astralagus powder**
1 teaspoon vanilla

blend again and drink up! my kids call this the "poop smoothie" but they always slurp every last drop. if you're sensitive to physical sensations and medication like i am, you'll notice a buzzing, caffeine-like high that starts just after lunch and continues until bedtime, without any horrible side effects that you'd get with caffeine. i make this when i didn't get enough sleep the night before or when i have a overwhelmingly busy afternoon and it makes me feel like superwoman.

* you could sub cocoa powder. i like my chocolate bitter. use less if you don't.
** used as an energy tonic in chinese medicine for thousands of years. also a great immune system booster

champion cherry limeade smoothie
serves 1

1 cup almond milk
1 1/2 cups frozen cherries
juice and zest of one lime
1/2 teaspoon maca root powder*
1 teaspoon raw honey, optional

*maca root can improve sexual endurance, physical stamina, adaptability to stressful situations and an increase in both the number and activity of spermatazoids (sperm). so you may or may not want to give this to your husbands. i always make enough for the family, pour their servings out, then add the maca to only my smoothie.

writing wednesday: guest post by meagan

[image from the lovely etsy shop dearcatherina]

hello friends, writers and non-writers alike. today i have a guest post from one of the girls in my critique group, meagan.

meagan is the oldest of 9. she is the one that everyone goes to when they need something, the dependable one, the kind one who thinks and listens a lot before she speaks. and you guys, she totally keeps her house spotless clean ALL THE TIME! here is the amazing meagan:

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Don’t only practice your art But force your way into its secrets For it and knowledge can raise men to the divine -Ludwig Van Beethoven

When I was a little girl, I always felt lost. I knew I wanted to be something, that I wanted to do something, but I didn’t know what. Looking back on it now, I realize that what I really wanted was to write something.

I started seriously writing a few years ago. One day I sat down and decided to write a book. So I did. Then I wrote another one. I had so much fun writing that I didn’t worry too much about anything. I was just having fun. And when I began to get all those reject letters from agents I had queried, I didn’t really pay attention. Sure, it would be cool to be published. And maybe that might help justify to others that I was a serious and brilliant writer, but for the most part I just wanted to create. I wanted to write a story and I wanted those characters in my head to come to life and live all the lives that I never could. It wasn’t until I had finished my second book that fear and doubt began to set in. I realized then that I had no idea what I was up against. What if I wasn’t really a writer? What if I was wasting all my time on something that in the end would mean nothing? What was my end goal?

It was about this time that I met and fell in love with my writing group, which presently consists of Rachel and this lovely gal. It only took a few times of me sitting next to them at a Barnes and Noble café to realize that these people were my people. My writing had found a home and I knew that this was where my writing would really start to grow.

I was right. The past few years have been sort of brutal, writing wise. I’ve written the same story three different ways. I’ve written 50,000 words just to delete them and try again. And then again. I wrote an entire book and then had to walk away from it completely because it just wasn’t right. It has been hard and sometimes I yearn for those moments where the words just flow and the pictures in my head literally materialize themselves onto the screen of my computer without effort. I have days like that. Sometimes I only have moments. But a lot of the time I am working and learning. I am gathering knowledge and forcing my way in.

I think that Beethoven was absolutely right. It isn’t enough to just write. We have to unlock the mysteries of our craft. We have to give ourselves over to it and set aside all the fear and all the doubt. We have to think of every sentence we write as a gift and every deleted word as a lesson. And then we have to move forward.

So what is my end goal as a writer?

To raise men to the divine, of course. ;)

book recommendations, and a GIVEAWAY!

today i am directing you to olivia's blog where i shared a few book recommendations. she asked what i look for in a favorite book, and i shared here.

also, i just now finished THE RAVEN BOYS by maggie stiefvater and let me tell you, i think you're going to like it. a great ghost-like story with fantastic characters and a lot of seemingly unsolvable problems brewing. and i think, like me, you'll be really frustrated that you have to wait for the next one in the four-book series. it's really good. eeek!

and now, my first giveaway! i loved this book so much that i'm planning on buying the hardcover. the copy i have is an ARC (Advanced Reader's Copy) that is signed by maggie, with a few marks from me (it's well-loved, and i wasn't sure i wanted to give it away when i first read it). i'm giving away this copy to one lucky person that comments here. spread the word. the book comes out september 18 and now's your chance to read it early, before it comes out, if you are an impatient fan like me.

leave a comment with your email if you think i might not have it to be entered to win. contest closes sunday, september 2 at midnight, mountain daylight time. good luck!

my new favorite things, plus new running music

oh, hello!

how are you? me, i'm good. the world is beautiful. our bodies are miraculous. children are precious. so many things to be grateful for. here are 5 things i've been enjoying a lot.


1. victoria bjorge's sketchbook
isn't the above image great? it's from her online sketchbook which she uses to foster inspiration. i'm going to try a collaging laser beams coming out of people's eyes in my own sketchbook and see if it helps me focus when i'm writing. ha!


2. spotify
am i the last one to know about spotify? it's my new favorite thing.

if you haven't heard about spotify, it's like pandora, BUT WITH DOUBLE RAINBOWS AND UNICORNS. you can create and/or listen to a radio station based on a song or artist, much like pandora, but spotify is like a whole other level of greatness. you can also create playlists to listen to whenever you want. you can find other people who have the same taste in music you do and follow their playlists, or just them in general. you can share music on facebook, twitter, or tumbler. you can listen to it on your smart phone or ipad. and if you are a paying member, you can make ANY playlist available offline. i think it's genius. and you can try it out for free for a month, then cancel your membership anytime you want.

i have playlists for my two novels, for a working idea of a story, and lots of other things. it's so much fun!


3. treadmill workout by iowa girl eats
i usually HATE the treadmill. i think it's ruined many a potential running lover. but, this workout has got me through a smoky, hellish utah summer. it's fast--only 30 minutes, it's really, REALLY hard and i can feel the afterburn from it all day long.[and really, her whole blog is excellent. workouts, recipes, and when i read her blog i feel like i'm chatting with a good friend]


4. running music
and last, a new-to-me running playlist that's making my indoor workouts feel like a party. i always start out with slow tempo and then take off. i think you're really going to like this music! you can see the full playlist over on my spotify, but the first 20 songs are listed below. i'm happy to share if you email me.

1. hit the ground (superman) / the big pink
2. i've got your number / passion pit
3. run on / moby
4. enjoy the silence / depeche mode
5. over and over / hot chip
6. girls like you / naked and famous
7. e-pro / beck
8. ice ice baby / vanilla ice
9. ready for the floor / hot chip
10. sixteen saltines / jack white
11. pull up the people / m.i.a.
12. midnight city / m83
13. lasso / phoenix
14. dilly / band of horses
15. gonna make you sweat... / c+c music factory
16. girl / beck
17. train in vain / clash
18. pure / the lightning seeds
19. someone great / lcd soundsystem
20. on top of the world / imagine dragons

strong at the broken places

the kids are back in school and it sure is quiet around here.

and clean.

you'd think that would make it easy to write. yes, it gives me time to write—which is half the battle. easy though? well. i guess no matter where i go i still have my brain following me around. which means i'm easily distracted. [and also i have crazy brain.]

but the quiet helps a lot. i have been sitting here all morning just thinking...and sighing...typing a few words then sighing some more.

i'm thinking about the things in my life that have been hard. not just hard like running 13 miles or giving birth. hard like being pregnant 36 months of my life and throwing up all day every day. hard like being falsely accused. being shamed and feeling like i deserved it. standing alone, being misunderstood. realizing that a few of my own dreams will not come true in this life.

things that have broken me.

and i'm thinking about my character, trying to think of what will break him. because my favorite kind of story is one where the protagonist becomes strong in his broken places. i hope the story i'm writing, as well as the one i'm living has that same character arc.

strong at the broken places.

happening this week

oh, hi! just a few quick things.

1. last week of summer here. the kids all go back to school next week. i would be more sad about this if i'd had even one writing session go for more than five minutes this entire summer without being interrupted by my dear, sweet, needy children. [i realize this makes me sound like a heartless, ungrateful, selfish mother. i'm not. we've had a summer full of fun family time. it's been wonderful. but. i have a rule to always have an open line of communication with my kids, even when i'm writing. they know they can always get a hold of me if they need something. which they take full advantage of, thus the interruptions.]

i'm so excited for them to be involved in good things at school so i can sink my head deeper into my novel. so excited.



2. it's the little guy's birthday this week. if you live in northern utah, you've seen the swampy, smoky air we've been breathing. lucas has had some breathing trouble because of it and because of me not being vigilant enough to stop his dairy-sneaking ways.

i was up all night with him last week, doing breathing treatments, rubbing essential oils on his chest, and trying to keep him calm. it worked, his wheezing eased a little after about 5 hours of ministering to him, and finally, in the wee hours of the morning he dozed off. i crawled into my own bed, exhausted, only to hear him yell down the hall, "MOM HURRY! I'M DYING!" i rushed in, asking what was wrong. "I'm starving to death," he said.

yeah. happy birthday little guy! he requested a fun day at the waterpark, crepes for breakfast, waffles for lunch, and pancakes for dinner. can you sense a theme?



3. in addition to the birthday this week, it's also my anniversary [15 years!]. and we have two soccer tournaments going on. so naturally, i decided this would be a great time to start a yeast cleanse, to see if i can't get rid of my horrible, horrible allergies/hay fever that have persisted for almost a full year now, only getting worse and worse. i'll let you know how it goes.



4. and just a quick writing update. [i feel a little silly always posting these, since i'm so far away from being a "real", published author, but i keep doing it anyway. my way of faking it until i make it, i guess.] i am loving my story now. i wish i could ignore all my other responsibilities and just finish writing it, but i am a wife and a mother and a volunteer at my church, all things that i choose to take precedence over writing some of the time.

anyway, i'd love some first draft beta readers in about 4 or so weeks when i get to the end. let me know if you're willing to read it and have the time to offer constructive criticisms. just a caveat: it's probably pg-13 in content for swearing and drug-use, and it has some dark, intense themes.



5. what about you lovelies? anything great happening this week?

of wishes and writing

trying a new thing on the blog—hopefully something that will last a long while—my first guest post.

i'm so pleased to introduce you to my friend brook, who has been a writer since i've known her, and has just started on her first novel project. brook is an herbalist, nutritionist, reader, and the person i go to when when i need wisdom to face my own challenges. when i first met her, i felt like it was a reacquainting, because i'm certain i knew her before this earth life. she is really one of my soul mates and i'm so happy to be able to share her with the rest of you.

here are her words on beginning.

a friend said, "try."


and i looked at the keyboard and wondered.

i had always said i would.

and i ached at the lost time since my declaration.



and i wondered. . .

could i give myself permission to daydream?

to wish?

to begin?

to steal out of the covers early in the morning to commune with my characters?

and sit out on the porch at night, while everyone was sleeping and listen. to listen to the sounds of my story. working in the sound of the crickets and the breeze?



to feel?

connect?

and take bits and parts of myself.

and all the things i love.

and weave them together in that just right paragraph that begs to be read again and again?



and so i combated the daily "not nows" and the bigger "not yets" and the nasty "not good enoughs"

and wrote.

and i settled down in to it.

and let myself feel.

joy.

and pain.

and as I wrote I began to feel me.

bits and pieces floating up to the surface.

and i wrote them down.

and i cried and sighed and felt and believed in these characters and this story.



and in these stolen moments

i wasn't a mother.

or wife.

or daughter.

or neighbor.



i was just me.

selfishly, completely, wonderfully me.



and yet all those rich experiences came through as i wrote but I tied them together in my own creation. molding them. turning them round to inspect.



and i began to assemble. . .

pictures.

songs.

notes scribbled on tiny pages, church announcements, to-do lists, and brightly colored birthday card envelopes.



i felt myself opening.



creating a space.

for me.

my voice.

a story only i could tell.



writing the book i wanted to read

the book that had this without the that.

and that without the this.

and the this and this and this that made me clap and rush to write it down,
eager to get to the end of the story, as if I was reading it, instead of writing it.



and then I battled the “not yets” and “not enoughs”again and made myself brave

and sent a little bit out

to share with a friend.

and waited.

nervous.

scared.

was it amateur?

cliche?

clumsy?



i read it again to see.



and realized, it spoke to me.

a story

full of wishes

and heartbreak

and imperfections.



but it was there, pages and pages.



because someone whispered, "try."

my family's musical story in a venn diagram

when i lived at home, my mother would, on occasion, sneak into my room and...uh..."edit" my collection of music cassettes if she saw anything she judged to be inappropriate. meanwhile, she offended my teenage music sensibilities by listening to musicals, pretty much exlusively. she was particularly fond of michael ballam and i can sing from memory any song he ever sang on broadway.

i close my eyes, drew back the curtain
to see for certain, what I thought I knew
far far away, someone was weeping
but the world was sleeping
any dream will do

awesome. or not.

my mother and i had but one musical taste overlap. the beatles. especially the beatles on vinyl.

now, the circle of life is completing itself as elder daughter and elder son develop their musical [it is so hard to type this word] taste. they delight in torturing me with their music. they reset the stations in my car. they add the katy perry station to my pandora. they can't get enough of nicki minaj. maroon 5. one direction.

the only music we both like is the new passion pit album. so now i am biding my time, waiting for their musical tastes to mature. do you think i'll have to wait long? did you like the same music as your parents?

Confessional

please see footnote*

I just love these little chats wherein I lay bare my soul. *cracks knuckles. rolls shoulders back*

Here we go. Did you know that at least three-fourths of my waking hours [possibly, very possible more like seven-eighths, or maaaaybe even nine-tenths] I spend thinking I might be going crazy. Racing thoughts is a symptom of mental illness. I think millions and millions of things constantly every second all the time and I often want a vacation from my own mind. And I think this makes me a genius or prime drug addict potential.

I have two toenails that fell off after my last downhill race, one of which ripped off while I was wake surfing in Utah Lake. Toenails falling off post-race is normal for me. Not normal was the infection I got in the one. I blame Utah Lake for that. I've spent the last several years since we got a boat lying to myself, telling myself that lake isn't the teeming bacterial cesspool that it is. No more. Utah Lake you are warm, but gross.

There are a few easy, easy homemaking tasks that I avoid because I have led myself to believe they are incredibly difficult. As I carry a laundry basket of clean clothes upstairs and into my room I often am thinking "this will be so hard to fold these clothes. So hard. The hardest thing I have ever done. The thought of folding the laundry is sucking the life force from me." And then I fold the laundry, which takes a total of five minutes, and immediately I give myself a mental pat on the back. "You are amazing! You can do hard things!" This is how I have survive the weary life of stay-at-home motherhood for nigh on thirteen years.

This whole summer I have only wanted to read long, epic, fantasy fairytales. I've read a few other books in between, and even have a late library book of a different genre that I am insisting to myself that I finish before returning, but really I just want to read another DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST.

Sometimes, when my emotions are too angry, too big, too explosive, I go to the creek across the street and throw rocks. I think of the thing that is upsetting me, I transfer that negative thought into the rock, the ugly, gray little rock and I throw it as hard as I can. Sometimes even with my left arm, which is hysterical because those arm muscles are practically nonexistent and definitely not coordinated. And then I end up laughing. Laughing so hard I usually cry. It. Is. Awesome. And perfect self-therapy.

*You may notice that the picture accompanying this post has nothing to do with anything in the post. Thanks for noticing.