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I sometimes feel like my table as seen through a glass. All my marks show, even the ones that should have been sanded smooth a long time ago.

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Marvia Davidson has prompted us to write about authenticity today. That seems like something I’d like to talk about. After all, my word of the year is “true,” so that goes right along with it.

So I set out to make a list of things that are true about me, but I only got to three.

Who am I? I am…

…an idealist. I worry a lot, and critique a lot, but that’s because I see in possibilities. I see how good things could be. If only. Maybe. Hopefully.

…an information sponge. I’m incurably curious. In personality tests, I test as intuitive, but I feel like I’m cheating. I’m not sure it’s so much intuition as it is an abundance of information lurking in my brain. It just looks like intuition because I easily see connections and patterns, and I’ve already followed them down the rabbit hole while others are still defining the problem. Or maybe that’s really what all intuition is – gut feelings based on experience and knowledge.

…efficient. A coworker once told me that I get more done in one hour than most people get done all day. I teased that he should mention that in front of people who could give me a raise (kidding/not kidding), but I was happy that he noticed. I like that I can finish tasks quickly, and it frustrates me when I can’t. I frustrates me when my marks show.

Some things can’t be rushed.

I looked back this morning at goals I’ve set in the past. I found my New Years Resolutions from January 2013. They were interesting:

  1. Stop being such a jerk (it was after an election year. I have opinions and can sometimes be mean about them).
  2. Stop participating in Facebook drama (see #1, with the special note that opposing racism and misogyny does not count as drama. Drama is useless; speaking up is important.).
  3. Stop the compulsion to fill up every minute.
  4. Stop saying “Yes” just because I can’t think of a good reason to say “No.”
  5. Stop making excuses.

At the end of the year, I marveled at how far I still had left to go. Three years later, I see progress, but I still marvel at how far I have left to go.

Being who I am is easy. It didn’t used to be. I used to get so wound up about it. I don’t get so wound up anymore. Thank you, 40s (younger friends – it gets better).

Becoming who I want to become is s.l.o.w.

I make plans for a year and work on them for five. This offends my efficiency. It also allows for more in-depth information-gathering.

I am both-and, not either-or.

 

I am linking up with Marvia Davidson’s Real Talk Tuesday. Join us?

March really is the best month of the year in my life. I get at least one week off during Spring Break, it’s Staff Appreciation Month, and it’s my birth month!

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My birthday was relaxing. We had a leisurely brunch at Crickles and Co., shopped in the afternoon for books and shoes (cue My Favorite Things), and had a great dinner at Greenhouse. If you are ever there – Mahi-Mahi tacos with mango relish. Do it.

I spent the first part of Spring Break at my parents’ farm. We mostly ate delicious things, some of which we picked right off the plant. This is the only acceptable reason for spring coming early this year.

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Anyone else think Brussels sprouts look like a sea creature when they’re growing? No? Just me, then.

I also watched from afar while Mom fed the neighbor’s donkeys.

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I tried to watch from a-near, but, well, you see the side-eye I’m getting from that one on the right. They don’t know me. That one still wasn’t too sure I wasn’t going to jump back up there and try to touch it again. That’s fine, donkey. I’ll just keep your treat.

I’ve been slowly watching a few shows. I read Year of Yes earlier this year, so I had to (HAD TO) watch Grey’s Anatomy. I don’t know why I resisted so long. I love this show. I love Christina and Bailey. And George. I love the characters so much that I find myself praying that their patients survive. On reruns of a TV show. This must be how atheists see praying all the time.

I’ve also been watching Alias and The X-Files for the first time. I have to watch them earlier in the evening before the sun goes down, though. I’m apparently easily spooked. Not enough to stop watching, of course.

I’ve been doing a lot of reading, but what I’ve been reading is Harold McGee’s On Food and Cooking. You can do a lot of reading and still not be done with that book. It’s glorious. I need it for my very own. I’m also currently reading...a lot of things. I have books stashed everywhere.

What did you watch/read/do this month?

 

I’m linking up with Leigh Kramer – join us!

 

The_Reluctant_Missionary-Book_Cover-FrontCover

I met Miah Oren through an online writers’ group called Story Sessions (now The Coterie), and I’ve enjoyed getting to know her and watch the process of this story making its way into the world. Her first book, The Reluctant Missionary: A Journey From Failure to Faith, released on Tuesday, and you should all buy it immediately.  And yes, Mom and Dad, it comes in paperback as well.

1. I can’t wait to dive in to your book! Tell us about The Reluctant Missionary.

The Reluctant Missionary: A Journey From Failure to Faith describes my journey from idealistic young missionary to depressed, cynical teacher who was just trying to make it through each week. I had unrealistic expectations for myself, my team, and my hosts. And I didn’t know what to do when those expectations weren’t met.

2. What sets your book apart from other books written about mission experiences?

I haven’t read a book about missions that addresses failure. But I wish I had before going overseas. I wrote the book so others in missions and Christian ministry will know that they’re not alone in worrying about failure and that failure isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

3. What was the biggest joy you faced in writing the book? The biggest hurdle?

The biggest joy in writing the book was discovering how all the pieces of that experience fit together. Even in draft 17 (of 23) I was adding characters. Of course they were there all along, but I hadn’t realized how their words and/or actions fully impacted my decisions.

The biggest hurdle was probably making the decision to publish in the first place. Originally this was an email to someone who was struggling as a missionary. Then I decided to expand the story “for posterity.” When I had 200 pages and was 95% done with the first draft, it finally occurred to me that it could be a book. But I was nervous about sharing the story because I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I also know that my perspective probably isn’t correct. So many things I heard via rumors and gossip, through mangled translations from another language, or that I just misunderstood because I really wasn’t doing well personally. But this was the data I had at the time.

4. If you could give one piece of advice to aspiring mission workers, what would it be?

You are not responsible for any outcomes. It’s all up to God. Whether wonderful or terrible things happen, your obedience is more important, and you’re not responsible for “results” or “success.” Only God knows what success looks like. Whether fifty people come to Christ or no one, you are doing God’s important work by showing up.

5. What projects are you working on now?

Currently I’m working on the second draft of the mystery novel I wrote for last year’s NaNoWriMo. It’s about a girl who thinks she’s joining a convent, but it’s actually a secret international spy/detective agency.

Writing a memoir was hard. It’s a nice change to write about fictional characters whose feelings I don’t need to consider upon releasing the book.

I’m also working on a course called Photography for Writers. It keeps growing – it might be as long as a book by the time I’m done.

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Miah is the author of The Reluctant Missionary, a memoir about the two years she spent overseas teaching English. She writes about learning to let go of perfectionism and embracing God’s plan for her life. She lives in Dallas where she dreams of someday having another cat. Connect with Miah online at http://www.miahoren.com.

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Happy birthday treat! Don’t get used to it, though, body.

This month is Staff Appreciation Month at UNT, and on Fridays, they have a free health screening at the gym. So last Friday, KatyBelle and I went to check out our stats and get a tour of the weight room. My blood pressure? WAS HIGH. I proceeded to make little jokes and say, “Oh, that’s a little higher than it usually is” (LIES, as my blood pressure has never ever been high before in my life. It’s way higher than usual. Because it’s high at all.), so that I didn’t have a meltdown right there in the gym in front of everyone.

So this year, what I’m giving me for my birthday is better health. Because I’m 41, and I’m not ready to buy my weekly pill box just yet. Ergo, today’s Friday Five is a list of five things I want to do to take better care of my body this year.

Lose 50 pounds by the time I’m 42.

I have a bit more to lose before I’m at a healthy weight for my height (5’2″) and bone structure (small), but 50 is a good start. It’s totally a doable goal for a year. But instead of just saying I’m going to lose it, I need specific means to do so. So I’m also going to…

Eat real food.

Less of this processed nonsense and the inflammation and sugar that go with it and more of the awesome things that one would find on a food pyramid, such as this one from the American Heart Association. Preview of the year to come – I’ve been trying it this week, and this pyramid represents a lot of food. I love a vegetable, but I’m having a hard time getting all of them in. I figure if I focus on eating what’s on the pyramid first and then having treats, I will either a) not ever make it to the treat or b) be so full by the time that I get there that I can’t possibly imagine eating another thing.

Exercise at least 30 minutes a day.

This one is the most troublesome and also the one I’m most frustrated with myself that I don’t already do. It’s really not hard. I only have one job now, so finding half an hour a day is not an issue. And I like doing most of the exercises I have planned. I like taking walks and dancing. When I embark on my Couch to 5K in late May so that I’ll be ready for the race on July 4, I’ll enjoy that, too. I love kickboxing and swimming, and I’ll love them when I add them in August. Once I can trust myself to be in the habit of working out and thus won’t be wasting money to do so, I will like going to the gym with Tammy and to Pure Barre with Jessa. There’s really no excuse. I just have to get started again.

Drink 120 ounces of water a day.

That sounds like a lot of water. Because it is. But taking into account my weight and also the fact that I sweat quite a bit (because Texas and all the new exercising), it’s not an unreasonable amount. It’s more than I’m used to drinking, so it’s a challenge. I have reached this goal one day so far, and it’s amazing how much better I felt, just from that. That’s a good motivator.

Get at least 7.5 hours of sleep a night.

I don’t have any tricks for doing this yet. I’m open to suggestions. I’ve been trying to go to bed earlier, have no caffeine after noon (which I’m pretty sure just makes me angry), surround myself with white noise (which has been the most helpful change, I think), but I’m still not sleeping that great during the week. But the weekends are better, so I believe improvement is possible.

Happy birthday, body. I’m sorry I’ve treated you badly, but I’ll do better. I love you.

 

Night-Driving-Synchroblog

“You can’t be The Lone Ranger. Christianity can only be done in community.”

Then why is faith such a lonely place sometimes? How do I explain the seasons when the more I engage, the more people I seek out, the more people I pray with, the more isolated I feel?

I used to think that getting married would obliterate my loneliness. I don’t think that anymore. Getting to know people and being around them hasn’t gotten rid of it, so maybe that’s too much of an expectation to heap upon my future spouse.

[Having said that, I’m still more than willing to give marriage the old college try, Jesus. I’m just sayin’.]

Did I choose my dark places, or have they chosen me?

Probably a bit of both.

If you look only at the facts of my early life, I probably shouldn’t (ick…speaking of unreasonable expectations. Can we just ban this word from the English language already?) be so worried about being abandoned. I had an enviable childhood. My parents are good role models. They’re responsible, faithful people who are still together, just like they’ve been since they were practically teenagers. They have always had high expectations, but they’re fair expectations. And they love their children – oh, how they love us.

Yet I distinctly remember in the church I grew up in, when we watched that terrible 70s film about the last days, as the song’s line repeated, “You’ve been left behind,” my fear of being left didn’t have anything to do with the apocalypse. It was very much a then-and-there fear.

It’s a fear that’s stuck around.

I didn’t sleep a lot that week. I don’t sleep a lot many weeks of the year.

Adult life has had more examples of people going away, and oddly, that’s a comfort. A see-how-I’m-not-totally-crazy consolation. I’ve been through church splits and dissolutions, and that’s been hurtful, especially when it means we don’t see each other anymore, indicating that our bond was not as strong as it appeared. Friends come and go, show up and then get married or have children or move or all of the above, and my heart’s not built to be a pit stop. Maybe most people’s hearts are. Maybe that’s my problem. I can’t make my heart do what it’s supposed to do. I can’t make my heart let go; a part of it always goes with them.

I don’t bond easily, but when I do, it’s forever. Even when the other person goes away. And I’m afraid that they all will go away eventually.

In my darkest times, I get angry about it. In my darkest times, I imagine pouring my heart out and being told, “Excellent sharing. Really top notch. Thanks for telling us. Okay, goodbye now. Have a nice life. Good luck!” And that makes me so mad. I argue with these imaginary people in my head who say things like that, who would be cavalier enough about my heart to walk away from it.

This is not a plea to tell me how you’ll stay. Please don’t promise that. You don’t know what tomorrow brings. I want you to do what you need to do, and I don’t want you to feel bad about it. Guilt is not welcome here. For any of us.

And I’m thankful that I’ve seen fewer of these darkest days recently. I think spending more time with my sister has helped. And I think my church – specifically, joining the choir – has helped.

They feed me. They listen to me. They surround me with song.

These are the things I cling to when it’s dark. It doesn’t always drive the darkness away, but it’s a bit of light to see by.

I have learned not to be so scared of the dark places.  I have learned precious things that my stubbornness would not have allowed me to learn any other way. I have grown more confident in my navigation skills. It has made me more self-sufficient but also more willing to be interdependent. It has made me stronger…and also weaker. It teaches me how to hold opposing forces in the same hand.

Addie Zierman’s new book, Night Driving: A Story of Faith in the Dark, releases on Tuesday, March 15, and she’s invited her readers to link up to her synchroblog. Come back after the release date to read more stories of faith in the dark.

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So far this year, I have made so many lists of things I plan to accomplish and things I like about myself. I suppose this is to be expected with the new year and unusual volume of inspirational literature I’ve been reading that encourages me to do so.

Also, I’m awesome and goal-oriented, so those lists are easy to write.

It’s only fair, however, that I keep in mind the things that potential new friends or significant others should understand when embarking on our relationship. Today, I bring you five things people probably wish they’d known about me from the start.

1.If you are sick around me, I will go into sterilization mode so quickly that I might forget to sympathize with your illness. I’m barely even sorry about it. I’m not trying to catch your disease. This is especially true if you are sick in public.

People – stop going out among others when you’re sick unless you absolutely cannot help it at all, and nine times out of ten, you can help it. You might not want to, or it might be inconvenient, but you can. You have the ability. Embrace it. Indulge in self-care by staying home and healing. But if you can’t do it for you, do it for me. I get enough germs  flying through the air with the students who live where I work (who ARE home, so they get a pass. And also I keep a stockpile of disinfectant and Emergen-C at the desk, so at least there I’m prepared.). Spring Break is next week, and I plan to spend it not hacking up a lung.

2. I am particular about my kitchen (also, if I live there, the kitchen is mine. Life will be easier for you if you just accept that. You can have other parts of the house, roommates/future spouse.). Everything has its place, and I barely hold it together when things are put somewhere they don’t belong. After multiple offenses and maybe a warning, I will not even try to hold it together anymore. It’s seldom clean, but there is always an ongoing method in play. I have stopped getting passive aggressive (and in some unfortunate cases, active aggressive) when guests who are only trying to help disrupt the system, but it’s a struggle.

3. I don’t like game nights. Don’t misunderstand – I like playing games just fine. But if I’m going to play, I’m going to play to win. I will be gracious whatever the outcome, but I will trash talk during the game, and if you can’t accept that as part of friendly competition, then you probably don’t want to play with me. Because I do see it as part of friendly competition, and I will not feel guilty about refusing to be bored/boring. And I will become annoyed with interruptions or slow decision-making behaviors that turn what should be a 30-minute game into a 3-hour game. If you can’t focus, I’d rather just snack, hang out, and talk.

4. I will also not feel guilty for misunderstandings for which we are both responsible. I will apologize for my part, because adulthood. I hate not being clear and not getting my meaning across well, and my apology will be sincere.

What I will feel is hurt if you do not also recognize and apologize for your part – a reconsidering-how-much-I-trust-you sort of hurt. Because what I hate more than not being clear is a lack of self-awareness and personal responsibility.

[Aside – while the personal hurt feelings are a strictly one-on-one phenomenon, I also tend to distrust public figures and groups who make not effort to be aware of their own social effects and the part they play in them, or worse – those who, being aware, do nothing to correct or at least minimize the negative outcomes of their behavior.]

5. I am super sensitive to extraneous, unnecessary sound. There are a few exceptions. I enjoy some sounds – like wind chimes and the whir of my fan at night. I like the sound of rain. That’s nice. But if I can understand your conversation through my closed door and over my television, I am not going to be happy. And do not walk into my space and start playing your own music. It’s so rude.

I have a complicated relationship with music. I want to enjoy background music, but if it has words or is instrumentally interesting at all, I mostly want it to be the only sound and the primary thing I’m paying attention to. This is why, random fellow, I don’t want to have a conversation with you at the club. I am willing to dance with you, but please stop talking, because you’re ruining it. I can’t listen to wordy music and write at the same time; it’s too distracting. If the music is in the background, it has to be both instrumental and a little boring, because otherwise I want to focus on that and ignore everything else.

I am fighting the urge to print this out and hand it to people I meet. That would probably be a weird thing to do, right?

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Happy packages from Maggie!

This post may seem disjointed. Welcome to where I’ve been recently.

These last few weeks have been busier than usual, and I’ve handled it in my own stellar way – freak out, get sick, and cancel everything.

On the one hand, I’m pleased that I chose to say no instead of powering through and keeping my schedule packed when my body needed to rest. On the other hand, if I could make better (i.e., more life-giving and less exhaustion-producing) scheduling choices before I freaked out and made myself sick, that would be awesome.

No is important sometimes. But no is not always the best choice for me. Sometimes, what keeps me from getting to the freak-out stage is remembering that I’m not actually alone.

I live by myself, so if I want to engage in supportive relationships, I have to make an effort to do so. I’m not talking about the being-mentally-present effort that all relationships require. I mean actual physical effort. To be social, I usually either have to put on my shoes and leave the house or bring the people to me.

There are exceptions. Maggie is in Houston, and Michelle is in Fort Worth (ish), and we usually text on a daily basis. We get together when we can, but that doesn’t happen very often. We text about TV but we also talk about life stuff. It’s an easy way to keep in touch. Maggie and I have started reading books together again. We’re currently working on all Jen Lancaster’s (or JenLan, as we – and probably no one else – like to call her) memoirs.

But most showing up requires…well…showing up.

It doesn’t have to be an organized event. I like going to people’s houses and having them over to mine. I like reading in the wine shop on the square. I also like listening to live music and browsing bookstores.

I don’t mean for this to sound like a personals ad.

I want to do more than go through the motions of my day-to-day schedule. I want to be show up mentally and physically, and I want to have the energy to do so. Honestly, I’m afraid that I have forgotten how to do that in a way that is energizing instead of exhausting.

But I am still trying.

I am linking up with Marvia Davidson’s Real Talk Tuesday. Even though it’s Thursday. See? Disjointed. Hurry up, Spring Break.

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The books in that stack were the first five things I planned to read this month. But then I remembered I have a book club reading to do for next week, and things are due at the library, so I’ve pushed most of them back to later in the month.

But the one I read and devoured in a day and now have to buy for myself and possibly everyone I know?

  1. Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes. It took me three days to read this, but I’ll be unpacking all the good it will do me for a long time. I experienced a lot of joy and a lot of discomfort reading this book, for I, too, am an introvert who has gotten very comfortable saying no to a lot of things when I would be better off saying yes. Many things she said hit very close to home. I believe I need to continue my education by binge-watching her shows. Okay, maybe that’s not the point of the book. Maybe I can watch an episode a day or as a treat for saying yes to something scary/exciting?
  2. Speaking of the book club, In the Skin of a Jihadist by Anna Erelle is our church book club’s selection for next Tuesday, so naturally I waited to start it until today. Whoa. Intense. This should be a good discussion.
  3. In preparation for reading next month’s selection for a different book club (I may have a problem…an awesome, wonderful problem) – Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates – I’m re-reading The Case for Reparations.
  4. For Black History Month, Austin Channing Brown is highlighting a different educational resource every day. 
  5. Speaking of BHM, if you’re wondering what you could possibly read (other than the resources on Austin Channing Brown’s page), here is QBR’s list of 100 essential black books. And here is a list compiled by The Woke Folk of books on race, gender, sexuality, and class to download for free.

What are you reading these days?

On Fasting

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Tomorrow we enter into Lent, which in many traditions is a season of fasting. I’m not sure Lutheran is one of those traditions, but I tend to fast during Lent anyway. I started doing so to support an early college roommate who was Episcopalian, and I’ve done it ever since. I’ve become less communicative about it over the years, not only because it’s become more of a private reflection, but also because I’ve found that fasting is one of those things people are either willing to understand or wanting to argue about.

This post is for the willing crowd. Arguing crowd – save your breath. I’m still going to do it, because I find it beneficial. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. You do you.

First, these are not reasons that I fast:

  1. To test my willpower or prove that I can accomplish it. Fasting is an intensely personal experience for me, but that doesn’t mean that it’s just about me and what I can do. In fact, I would go so far as to suggest that if this is the only reason one fasts, then what one is doing is not so much fasting as it is dieting.
  1. To rid myself of vices. If I notice something I’m doing is harmful to myself or others, I don’t need to wait until Lent to get rid of it. Nor do I need to use the calendar’s announcement that it’s Easter as an excuse to pick it back up. It just needs to go. What needs to happen there is a full turning away, not a temporary doing without.

Reasons I fast:

  1. To induce gratitude. Doing without something for a season that is a regular, enjoyable part of my life, makes me ten times more grateful for life and more aware of a purpose outside myself in general, and that gratitude feeds right into the joy of Easter.
  1. To make room. Abstaining from a regular activity frees up that time (and head space) for more contemplation, meditation, and prayer.
  1. To lay down privilege. This is humbling and paves the way for that experience to change me into someone who acts more fairly.

The year I went vegan for Lent, I learned a lot. What I expected to get out of it was an immense joy when I could have cheese (if Jesus were a food…) again and a little time for reflection that I saved by preparing and eating simpler meals.

Then, like a fool, I told people what I was doing.

This announcement inspired a lot of opposition. It wasn’t like I was asking anyone to join me, but they were still upset about it. This confused me until I realized that when people rise up against something that doesn’t seem to have anything to do with them, it’s usually a justice issue. They or someone they love or support would lose power – usually over other people – or money, which is just tangible power, if everyone started behaving or believing that way. So they don’t like it.

When I see something as a justice issue, however, whether or not they like it becomes kind of irrelevant. If it is strictly a difference of opinion, I’m pretty live-and-let-live about it. Sure, I will tease you. You think Uggs are pretty? Fine. I might, tongue fully in cheek, tell you that your taste is wrong, but really? Live your life; wear your hideous boots. What do I care?

But.

I will remove that tongue from my cheek and seriously urge you to investigate where and how they’re manufactured. Because it matters. Morally and ethically – it matters. Issues of justice cannot be brushed off with a flippant agreement to disagree.

So the year I went vegan, and people started hurling their statistics and medical studies at me, I didn’t tell them they had a right to their opinion and let it go. I, ever the argumentative academic, read their statistics and studies. Then I read most of the works cited at the bottom of those sources to get a larger picture of their viewpoint. I analyzed the credibility of their sources, and I studied equally credible sources (and in quite a few cases, more credible sources because wow, people will believe really shoddy work from really shady places if it allows them to resist changing their mind) that came to a different conclusion.

[As an aside, if you are looking for a socio-political rabbit hole to fall into, I recommend a compound search of food systems and justice. It’s fascinating.]

Through reading all this research, I came to some conclusions of my own. For the record, I didn’t stay vegan, although if you are, I highly support your decision. There are a lot of good reasons to do so.  There are also good reasons not to, and those reasons are more in line with my values. I did, however, radically change the way I view and buy food. After my experience and the domino effect of education on the subject, I could not in good conscience know what I had learned and remain unchanged.

Fasting is not always such a life-changing experience for me, but it does always manage to find a new way to shift my focus away from myself and onto the needs of others. That’s a lesson that extends far beyond the fasting season.

Steele Secrets

I met Andi Cumbo-Floyd by joining the online writing community she leads. She has helped me with my work and has taught me a great deal about making time for getting it done. I am very excited for you to get the opportunity to read her first novel, which comes out February 9, so I invited her to talk about it here today. Enjoy! And order her book!

  1. Tell us about Steele Secrets.

Steele Secrets is my new YA novel, and it tells the story of Mary Steele, a 15-year-old girl who finds herself unexplainedly in an abandoned cemetery.  While she’s there, she meets the ghost of a slave named Moses and has to fend-off a bulldozer sent to destroy the cemetery.  In the course of her fight to save the cemetery, she learns a great deal about her small mountain town, about her neighbors, and about herself.  And not all of what she learns is good, and all of it challenges her sense of history and self.

  1. What prompted you to write it?

Over and over again, I have read about – and personally witnessed – the destruction of historic African American places, particularly slave cemeteries.  As a country, we do not value these places as they should be valued, and so we let them be destroyed because of our apathy. Sometimes, we destroy them with malicious intent or because of shame.  None of those reasons is acceptable.  So Steele Secrets comes, in part, from that experience and is my way of working through why we don’t care to save these houses, cemeteries, and other historic sites as much as we do, say, a presidential mansion.

I also wrote this book because I wanted to investigate my own heritage – note, small spoiler ahead – as a woman who identifies as white but is a direct descendant of African Americans.  I wanted to study my own thoughts and feelings about that identity, of which I am very proud but still unsure of how to wrap into myself fully.

Finally, I wrote Steele Secrets because at our 200-year-old farmhouse, I often feel the presence of a woman who was enslaved here.  I call her by the name Judith, but I do not know her real name; it’s not recorded anywhere.  So in these pages, I wanted to explore this idea of slave hauntings as beneficent gifts to us in the 21st century.

  1. Describe the research process that went into writing this story.

I actually didn’t do any particular research for this book, BUT I did draw on the research about slavery that I did for my previous book, The Slaves Have Names.  I also used a lot of the knowledge I’ve gained as a member of the Central Virginia History Researchers, a group of professional and independent historians who have worked to save a local African American cemetery and who strive tirelessly to recover the stories of African Americans and their communities in our part of the world.  Plus, I was able to draw from the work I’ve been honored to do with local historical societies; in fact, one of my characters – Shamila – is based loosely on my friend Elaine, who directs the Louisa County Historical Society.

  1. From which character did you learn the most?

What a great question! Without a doubt, Moses taught me the most. . . about what it might feel like to be enslaved, about what it is to forgive but not forget, about what family means.  I don’t want to say too much more because I don’t want to give away too much of the book, but Moses was my favorite character.  I fashioned him after Primus, a man who was enslaved at the plantation I call home.

  1. Which character frustrated you the most?

Oh, Mary, the protagonist.  In many ways, she and I are alike, so her foibles and failings are much like my own. . . and so when she messes up, I get frustrated because I do the same things.

  1. After reading Steele Secrets, I wanted to know more about how burial grounds and other sacred historical spaces of slaves are treated in our culture. What resources would you suggest?

Another great question.  The first resource I’d suggest is Lynn Rainville’s book Hidden Histories: African American Cemeteries in Virginia. The book is chock full of advice about finding old cemeteries, tips on preserving them, wisdom about how to understand the gravestone carvings, and an array of insight about historic preservation.

I’d also suggest that if you live in a place where there are plantations – i.e. most of the East Coast and all of the South – check with your local historical society. Ask them what places of import to African Americans are in danger.  Talk to property owners and see what they know about burial sites, slave quarters, etc., are on their land.

But honestly, we simply don’t have enough resources going into this work.  Every day, historic cemeteries are destroyed.  Every day, houses and other buildings that relate to enslaved people and their descendants are torn down.  So our best resource is ourselves – we can learn about these places and gather people to save them. . . we can take Mary’s lead.

Andi

Andi Cumbo-Floyd is a writer, editor, and farmer who – with her husband – runs God’s Whisper farm at the edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains, where they have 4 dogs, 4 cats, 6 goats, and 23 chickens.  Her books include The Slaves Have Names, Writing Day In and Day Out, God’s Whisper Manifesto, and the forthcoming Steele Secrets.  You can learn more about her at andilit.com.