I have three posts to write – a Getting It Together plan, a GIT recipe, and What I’m Into – but I don’t think I can say anything nice about anything today.
Hobby Lobby, we have been having issues for a while now. But as of today, we’re done.
SCOTUS, you’re on my list, too.
Get ’em, Ginsberg (scroll to page 60 for the dissent).
If you need me, I’ll be avoiding my conservative Facebook feed and pinning comfort food recipes and pictures of cute animals on Pinterest.
Posted in Rants | 2 Comments »
It is not easy to define what support looks like in practice. It might seem easy. Then you meet people and discover that they often find it difficult to take others’ needs into account when they are deciding how they are going to behave in life. This might surprise you, but it probably shouldn’t, as you are people, too, and have probably not centered your own life around what the general “other” needs.
It’s even more complicated when you’ve been burned. When you thought what you had was support but found out that what was really going on there was agenda. Or when you had an agreement, and that agreement was not honored. Or when you really did have support – one that you thought would last forever – right up until the moment that it ended.
Today, I want to talk about two places I’ve found support and what that looks like. I want to talk about two of my online writing communities.
I also want to invite you to join us, because, dear reader-writer-friend, I want you to have support, too. If any of this interests you, follow the links to find out how you can get involved.
The first online writing community I joined was the writing community at Andilit. It was created by Andi Cumbo-Floyd who wrote The Slaves Have Names (click and buy – you know you wanna) about the people who were enslaved on the land where she grew up. I am boggled, both by the enormous amount of research it took to tell as much of their story as possible and by the humble grace and beauty with which she tells it.
I joined because I had this scrap of a manuscript, and I needed fresh eyes. What I found exceeded (and continues to exceed) my expectations.
I get monthly editing for up to five pages of work from a professional editor. Five pages is a drop in the bucket as far as a full manuscript goes, but for the turtle-esque pace with which I edit my own work to the point that I am willing to let another human being see it, this works out perfectly. I am saving up for a grand editing once the manuscript is totally finished (and if you are looking for such an editor, I highly recommend Andi), but it’s great to have help along the way as well.
I also get monthly editing from a workshop of others in the group for up to five pages. This was the part that scared me when I first joined, because I tend to helicopter-parent my characters. They’ve been through so much already; I want to protect them from judgment. But as with most overzealous protection, this doesn’t help them grow, so I begrudgingly submitted pieces for workshop. It has been a godsend. It’s a critique, but from nice, friendly people who write very different things but are still enthusiastic in their desire to help you make your work better, and they expect the same from you. It doesn’t mean the critique doesn’t ever hurt, but it hurts in the good kind of way, like having sore legs the day after a challenging run.
In addition to all of this, Andi facilitates a private Facebook group for members where we post articles or posts on writing that we find, our own blog posts, and anything else writers might find helpful to their craft. She ends out weekly writing prompts to keep us from getting stuck. Andi teaches several online courses at reasonable rates. She also lives on a farm where she is hosting a writer’s retreat in July (another thing I’ll be saving toward so that I don’t miss it again next year).
The second online writing community I joined was Story Sessions. I meandered into Story Sessions via Elora’s blog after I read Every Shattered Thing (go ahead, click and buy – I’ll wait) and thus had the insatiable urge to read everything she has ever or will ever write. I feel almost as protective of her main character as I do of mine.
There are many options for membership. All of them, however, include a private Facebook group and private members-only content on the website, weekly writing prompts, a monthly newsletter, and story coaching with trained coaches. There are e-courses offered (I’m in the summer session of Story 101 now, and it is glorious) as well as various collectives (mini-courses on a variety of topics), virtual retreats, movie nights, and an annual in-person retreat. We also meet in person in more casual groups on a regular basis, because we just can’t help ourselves.
My favorite thing about Story Sessions are the write-ins. This might sound funny to members, because my crazy schedule doesn’t allow me to engage in them very often, but I LOVE them. Many of the blog posts I’ve written in the last year of which I am most proud (and all of the blog series I’ve started) were birthed at a Story Sessions write-in. On a weekly basis, members are invited to an online Fuze meeting where we are given prompts, time to write, and an opportunity to read what came out of that time to the other people attending the session.
All that I have said is just a small taste of what you would get from membership in these groups. These words don’t do them justice, because the people in these groups are my friends, and when have words ever done a friend justice? I have read many a snotty piece on how Internet relationships aren’t real relationships, but I can’t help but wonder where those authors are looking. I know online relationships can be real, because I experience them. And while it’s even better when we have a chance to get together in person, the foundation of our friendships started via the Internet, and they flourish there.
I love these people. Mercy, how I love them.
I would consider myself lucky to have just found one such community, but I have two. If you are a writer/artist in need of support, give us a try.
Posted in Andilit, Beauty, Hope, Story Sessions, Thanks, Writing | 4 Comments »
(Photo Credit – Jennifer Upton – A Shared Lens)
Every morning, at precisely 5:03 a.m., my internal clock wakes me up. This has been happening sporadically for about a year, but it has happened EVERY DAY for the last two weeks. It doesn’t seem to matter what time I go to bed. I could crash at 10:30, or I can stay up reading until 2:00. Still – 5:03. On the dot.
I don’t know why my body has decided to betray me in such a way. I don’t know why it’s angry with me or what I could have possibly done for it to think I deserve this treatment. Et tu, body?
I have been ignoring it. I have woken up, looked at my phone, seen the odious numbers 5:03, cursed vehemently, rolled over in a huff, and fallen right back to sleep.
Yet it keeps happening.
So I’m going to give in. You want to wake me up at 5:03 a.m., body? FINE. We’ll see how you actually like getting up at that time.
My fear, of course, is that my body will like it. I do not look forward to the few weeks it takes to adjust my falling-asleep time to the new, ungodly getting-up time. The next few weeks might be rough.
But once I do adjust (and please let it happen quickly), I foresee the following benefits:
So I’m skeptical, but I’m willing to try, if for no other reason than it means I’ll only have to wake up once.
Posted in Simplify, Work, Writing | 3 Comments »
I’m just going to give up counting the weeks. The number doesn’t matter; the plan does. So here we go.
This week is Create – tackling the writing nook. It’s called the writing nook, but its function goes beyond writing. It’s where I read. It’s where I organize and coordinate the schedules of my life. It’s where I store my sewing machine (although I really don’t like it there, so that might change soon). As areas of the apartment go, this is the one that gets the most attention, because 1) it’s where I spend most of my time and 2) it’s where I work, so it has to stay functional and organized. Because sanity. In fact, technically, I’ve already started on this area, because fixing one thing in the living room snowballed into rearranging all the bookshelves in the room, most of which are in the writing nook.
When I sit down at my desk, this is the reminder that greets me:
Equally important reminders, but let’s focus on the larger one.
I have only seen this quote in these exact words on Pinterest and in Aiki Finthart’s The Yu Dragon, which apparently you can get for free on Amazon today, but the sentiment is most often attributed to Friedrich Nietzsche (although here’s a fun investigation into its actual origins, if you’re interested). At any rate, it is important for me to remember that while what I’m creating might not have an immediate, obvious product, that doesn’t mean it isn’t worthwhile or that it’s not beautiful. It is important for me to remember that despite input from ambitious, results-oriented friends (which is not a bad way to be…generally speaking), my life and goals don’t have to look like theirs in order to be fulfilling. Maybe this is taking some liberties with this quote, but that’s the reminder it gives me lately.
It also reminds me to keep dancing, both figuratively and literally.
This week is not just about cleaning and organizing. This week is about honoring what the space is meant for – creating.
This week’s plan is:
I hope your week is full of creative fun as well!
Posted in Getting It Together, Story Sessions, Writing | 1 Comment »
I have a hard time getting enthusiastic about summer. This summer is not so bad, for two reasons:
But even during the worst summers, I have to admit – it’s certainly pretty:
So I am thankful.
I am keeping track of beautiful moments and words this year on my Beauty board on Pinterest.
I am also linking up with Amy Young’s Trusting Tuesdays – check it out!
Posted in Beauty, Roots, Seasons | 4 Comments »
Oxford Dictionaries defines binge as “a short period devoted to indulging in an activity to excess, especially drinking alcohol or eating.” Mirriam-Webster defines it as “a short period of time when you do too much of something.”
I find these definitions rife with judgment, but maybe I’m reading too much into the definition (or not enough into the word – that is certainly a possibility).
Certainly it is possible to eat or drink (or do anything else) too much. If one makes doing so a habit, one might even find oneself in need of some sort of treatment. There’s no doubt that this word – binge – might be triggering to some, and with good reason. Moderation is generally a friend.
But when Andi prompted our writing community to reflect on the word binge this week, excess and too much were not the ideas that came to mind.
You see, what I binge on is TV. There is an element of escape to this. I admit that sometimes, I’m re-watching old episodes of Big Bang Theory because I am avoiding doing something productive (because humorous as it may be, this is not the show to watch for deep character development).
(The Gilmore Girls understand me.)
But most of the time, watching television is productive for me. A couple of weekends ago, for example, I spent the whole weekend curled up on the couch with the pups I was dog-sitting enjoying an Orange is the New Black marathon. 48 hours, two full seasons. Lots of popcorn.
And it was good for me.
I binge on story. I binge on characters. I like seeing how other people develop plot and show-don’t-tell personalities. I like stewing in the tension of not really liking a main character (Piper Chapman, I’m looking at you). I like it when seemingly random happenings appear later and branch into a whole new storyline (see the entire series of Arrested Development).
Could I get this same thing from reading books? I could, and I do. But unless it’s the book we’re discussing in book club that month, or it is a book I’m reading for class, the insights I glean from reading tend to remain as solitary insights. I love this, and it is valuable, but the beauty of television is that it gives me the opportunity to engage in discussion in real time. If learning story and character are a classroom, books are the texts and television is the in-class discussion.
Television affords me the opportunity to engage in the social aspect of learning. Again, books can do this as well, but they take more time. Television is almost immediate. My Twitter feed lights up when a beloved character finally gets the job/relationship/etc. that s/he wants. When a series premiere or finale happens, a quick internet search (or let’s be real – the people whose blogs I follow specifically because we share favorite shows) gives me speedy commentary on how well the writers and performers met our expectations and hopes for the episode.
This commentary is not limited to online fandom. When I was in grad school, I attended a panel at national conference on the feminist themes in Ally McBeal. I wrote papers on Ally McBeal (although my papers tended to focus more on how well the show handled the topic of loneliness and less on the feminism in the show, as that had already been widely discussed, leaving little exigence for further exploration). And if you’re bored some time, go to Google and type in “television after 9/11 site:.edu” (or just click on the link there), and see what pops up.
I can only imagine the multitude of hours of binge-watching it took to gather the information to write those papers. If my own experience is any indication, there are a lot of people who need to get to a therapist to discuss their worrisome indulgence in this excess behavior.
Or maybe – maybe – not all binges are bad. Maybe “too much” is sometimes just enough.
Posted in Andilit, Feminism, TV | Leave a Comment »
This week’s Getting It Together plan is for the living room.
But first – a little regrouping/housekeeping:
Before:
Sad books
After:
Happy books
But most of the work will be revealed at the end of the summer.
Part of the reason for this is practical. I have a budget for the summer, but the resources are coming in paycheck-to-paycheck, so while I can complete most of a plan during the week, some parts of some plans will have to wait until the next payday. The main reason, however, is that it’s just too much. My apartment is not that big, and a lot of the changes are not that drastic. Also, I change my mind on some things as I move from space to space, so the official end of a week is never really the end of that week. Trying to write about this project as if it is anything other than the constantly evolving process that it is just wasn’t working.
Now back to this week’s plan.
The apartment layout is just four rooms – bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and living area. The living area is roughly the same size as the other three combined. This is good, because I moved here from a fairly spacious two-bedroom apartment, so something had to make up for the loss of my separate media/library/office room. This is also challenging, because I had to figure out how to separate the different areas – living, office, dining – while still pulling the room together as a whole.
The separating-different-areas thing? I’ve got that down. I am happy with the arrangement of the furniture. That will stay the same.
The pulling-the-room-together bit? That’s a different story.
Some days, I walk into my apartment and am overwhelmed by how much is going on in this one room. As you might imagine, this does not have the relaxing effect that one would want coming home after a long day to have. Fortunately, another feature of this room is four identical windows – two on each outside wall. I think the windows are the key to pulling it together.
The room is so large and full that I couldn’t get a good picture of all four windows, but here are the middle two:
I want curtains for all four windows that are not sheer and are the same, solid color. I’m thinking red. It’s a bold choice, but it worked in the other apartment, so I think it will work here, too. This poses a budgeting issue. Matching curtain panels for four windows could be costly, so I will have to improvise. I have accepted that, unless I get freakishly lucky, I will probably not be able to find what I want secondhand. But a quick measure of the windows reveals a wonderful thing: with a few minor sewing adjustments, a twin-sized flat sheet would be the perfect size. I can afford four twin-sized flat sheets. Of course, I will want a test run, so I’m going to use an old sheet set that I already have (and wouldn’t mind destroying, just in case my plan go horribly awry) that fits my color scheme for the bedroom. So if it works, I can use the test curtain on the window in the bedroom that is currently covered by an old, holey blanket (classy, I know).
The living room to-do list:
Posted in Food, Getting It Together | 1 Comment »
I don’t have a lot of “signature” things. I have favorites, but you’ll notice that that word is plural. I don’t have a signature fragrance, because I have many favorites – lemon, coffee, caramel, vanilla, amber, apple, coconut, etc. – and I use them pretty equally. I don’t have a signature dish, because I have many favorite foods and favorite meals.
I do have a signature color. Red.
That doesn’t mean that red is my favorite color (if pressed to choose, it would probably be orange. Probably.). It doesn’t even mean that red is the color I wear most often – that would be green (because UNT…and well, let’s just say it – I look awesome in green).
I consider red my signature color because it’s the color that most closely expresses my habits and leanings.
1. My emotions are red.
I don’t always express my emotions, but when I do, they come out red. It’s anger. Or passion. Or when I’m really riled up, it’s both. It’s fiery. I’ve been told that, because I tend to be reserved, sometimes the fire is shocking. I accept that. I mean, I’m in my head, so I know that it started as a smolder, but I can see how it might look like I go from zero to flame-thrower in no time.
2. My environment is red.
Say what you want about fire, but you can’t deny that it’s warm. Red is the color I am most drawn to when I decorate. If they sell an appliance in red, that’s the one I’m going to want. Red invites me. It invigorates me. It defies complacency. Red sparks lively conversation. I try to pour as much red into my surroundings as possible.
3. My life is red.
Red signifies change. For someone who claims to hate change as much as I do, I certainly do a lot of it. My life seems like a constant state of editing, revising, regrouping, reordering, and reevaluating. As much as I like schedules and order, and as much as I value good time management and the reliability of sticking to what I say I’m going to do, there’s something so satisfying about taking that proverbial (and sometimes literal) red pen, slashing through whatever is not quite working, and replacing it with something better.
Today at the end of our launch meeting of Story 101, Elora asked us what we needed to give ourselves permission to do. My gut reaction was “permission to change,” but I don’t think that’s the whole of it. More specifically, I need to give myself permission to view change as productive instead of negative. I need to stop seeing all those red marks as failure and start seeing them as what they really are – fine-tuning. They are the refining fire that burns away all that is almost and not quite in order to leave what is just right.
Posted in Getting It Together, Story Sessions | 5 Comments »
A quick look at my calendar tells me that this is supposed to be Week Five of my Getting It Together project. I am not doing Week Five this week. I have not finished the kitchen yet. Halfway through Week Five, I am still working on Week Four, and of all the weeks, this is the one that I want to finish completely before moving on.
There are reasons for this delay that I could not have foreseen at the onset of the project. The main reason is that I suddenly took on a summer class that started last week. That eats up two nights a week and many hours of prep time that I didn’t have scheduled before. The second reason is that I have been uncharacteristically hyper-social the last few weeks. I am used to seeing people and having people over, but I had plans every single night last week. I don’t actually remember the last evening I spent at home, which means it’s been at least a couple of weeks. I love time with friends, but I need a certain measure of solitude like I need air.
These are the reasons that I am exhausted. This is not an acceptable state for summer. It is not acceptable to me that my system is so shot that I slept through three alarms this morning, despite having gone to bed earlier than usual. I’ve been sleeping through alarms a lot lately, but I usually wake up at my regular schedule on my own. That didn’t happen today. What did happen today was a moderate anxiety attack (meaning that thankfully, it was more just hyperventilating with the subsequent lightheadedness and nausea than the usual oh-god-oh-god-my-heart-is-exploding) and a spontaneous hour and a half vacation from the morning at the desk when I finally woke up and realized it was 9:00 a.m., and I wasn’t there yet.
This is a warning sign, and I’m taking it seriously.
The summer is for resting and regrouping. Yes, I have this big project planned, but it’s planned over twelve weeks. So it’s a leisurely project, and I’m glad. A big part of getting it together is self-care. I can’t get it together if I can’t recognize when I need to take a little time off for leisure.
So this is me admitting that I need a couple of days of leisure in my life right now.
Yesterday, I got coverage for the some desk time, thinking that I could use the time off to catch up and be on the original schedule of the project and get a lot of writing done. I planned to use the time off to work extra hard for five days straight and get ahead of schedule. I had a ridiculous to-do list. I’m not sure it allowed for sleep.
But leisure is priority right now. Starting tonight, I’m giving myself a five-day weekend. I’m using three days vacation from the day job. I’m not canceling class tomorrow night, but that might be the only thing I do tomorrow.
Friday is a total rest day. I am making no plans (for those of you who have just tuned in, this is a Big Deal). I will do only what I want to do. I might read; I might write; I might even do some dishes or laundry. I might go to the library or to a coffee shop. I might spend the whole day on the Internet (although I’m not convinced that counts as rest). Or I might sleep in, watch TV, eat lunch, take a nap, watch more TV, stare out the window a while, and then go back to bed. I am erasing all expectations for Friday.
Saturday through Monday are my regrouping days. I am a scheduled person, but for the schedule to work, I also have to remember that I am an introverted person, so let’s see if we can dial down the anxiety by not having something out-of-house scheduled for every single night (self, are you listening?!). I still have a to-do list, but unlike the list I just tossed in the garbage, it’s actually sane. It includes things like this:
It is a list of tasks that will smooth things out and make life after the break easier. Easier is good. Easier is necessary.
Posted in Getting It Together, Work, Writing | 1 Comment »
Shame is a sneaky jerk.
Shame will find one thing – one tiny snippet of fact – and it will harp on it and blow it up into something big and ultimately untrue. Shame can really ruin my day.
Hannah Ettinger, writer of Wine and Marble (which I highly recommend following, if you aren’t already), wrote a response to Ruth Graham’s article in Slate that stated from the top, “Read whatever you want. But you should feel embarrassed when what you’re reading was written for children.” Graham argued for a higher standard of literature, cradling her opinion in an impressive nest of disclaimers, and Ettinger wrote a great response post. It’s just the sort of exchange that I usually enjoy reading.
But Shame had other plans for the chorus in my head. It took this seemingly innocuous topic and wrote a frickin’ musical.
The opening number went something like this:
Of course you like reading YA
It’s the easiest thing to read!
You don’t read
You don’t write
Rather stay out all night
How on earth will you ever succeed?!
Ouch. Busted. I haven’t been reading – YA Lit or otherwise – lately, which means I haven’t really been writing lately. I’ve been blogging a bit, but I haven’t touched the WIPs (WsIP? I’m not sure what the plural of WIP is) in weeks. Between the end of the semester and leaping right into summer, I haven’t had a break, and I’ve really needed one. I told myself that summer itself is slower and thus break-ish, but my soul knows the difference between slowing the rush and resting for real, and Shame was eager to point it out to me.
My normal response to such an epiphany is to recognize the problem (check) and find a solution. I need to schedule some time to take off work. I need a couple of days to relax from my regular schedule so that I won’t derail into full-on panic mode. Then I need a couple of days to regroup so that when I come back to the schedule it’s not so jarring. No big deal. Easy fix.
But Shame isn’t done with me yet. It wants me to feel like this need for a break is a sign that I can’t handle my life and implies that I am failing at it. It launches into familiar hits, such as You’re Not A Real Grown-Up and This is Why You’re Alone and How Long Does It Take to Pay Off a Loan? and Your Hot Mess Apartment and Buy a House Already, You Loser. Shame doesn’t want a solution. Shame wants me to dwell on my issues and mope about them, and it will use anything to make sure that happens.
But Shame made a mistake. Shame wrote me in as a character. And while I might listen to Shame’s song for a little while, sooner or later I’m going to respond to its facts with some truth.
The dance number begins with a shimmy. It erupts into a celebration of fun and rest. The lyrics answer every single major issue Shame wants me to remember. The song even circles back to the symptom Shame used to kick this show off. I do think adults (and teenagers) benefit from reading classics. I do think adults (and yes, even teenagers) benefit from reading complex contemporary literature. I especially think that writers of adult literature must read adult literature, if for no other reason than to know our market. But when a friend’s 15-year-old cousin came out, I was able to recommend Will Grayson, Will Grayson, and when a friend expressed how overwhelming it is to choose books and movies that will help her daughter contend with this world, I was able to explain why the princesses in Frozen are the princesses that I want little girls – you know, the people shaping our future world – to want to grow up to be, and neither of those conversations would have been possible if I had been too uppity to deign to read or watch them.
For adults who have or know children?
(Chorus) Every adult who is not a hermit
For adults who write YA novels?
(Chorus) Know your art; know your niche!
For adults who enjoy it?
(Chorus) We are going to do what we want!
All reading is right – all reading is good!
But responding to Shame’s accusations isn’t really the point, is it? Twisting the facts makes the facts useless. I can’t have a productive dialogue with a liar and a cheat, and that’s exactly who Shame is. The things on Shame’s list (and whether or not they are factual) are irrelevant. The real question is this – does Shame get to use them to rule me?
The final number ends with these words:
Shame – I don’t owe you an explanation.
Shame – I don’t want your opinion.
Shame – I don’t need your “guidance.”
Shame – I don’t owe you an—y—thing!
Close curtain.
This post is part of a new link-up hosted by Marvia Davidson called Real Talk Tuesday. Click the button below to join us or add to the conversation!
Posted in Real Talk Tuesday | 8 Comments »
M. Suzanne Terry 