Sometimes Christina Katz’s topics are so frighteningly on target for the events in my life, I wonder if she has my office bugged!! This week she discussed being busy in The Prosperous Writer.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been trying to figure out how I can add something new to my already overcrowded schedule. As I looked at shifting my priorities around, eliminating some activities, and postponing others, I began to have panic attacks. I would sit at my desk frozen, clutching my chest as my heart pounded, and struggling for breath. My guilt over projects I’m already neglecting as I work on smaller projects began to overtake my rational thought process. The truth is that I’m always busy. And, I get a lot done but am I focusing on the things I want to accomplish or am I stalled as I focus on being “busy”? I’m afraid I’ve fallen into the last trap. My schedule is packed so full of small tasks that I’ve forgotten to include the big projects on it. That’s really a backwards way to do things but it sure does keep me busy.
So I think it may be time to revamp my schedule to focus on the large projects that are important to me and my career. I can then fit the smaller projects that are also important to my career goals around those large projects. It may also be time to re-evaluate some of the activities that keep me busy but aren’t really contributing to my career goals. But who has the time? I’m too busy…
It’s time to stop using being busy as an excuse to not work on my next book projects. I have two novels started and stalled and an idea for a nonfiction book that I need to explore developing. All this is essential to progressing my career. It’s also plenty to keep me busy.
So I have to decide whether I want to be busy with busyness or busy with the important stuff… I choose the important stuff. What about you?
I’ve posted another poem, Cross My Mind, on Associated Content. Cross My Mind also appeared in the anthology, Time After Time several years ago. This one is for all those who’ve lost love they remember fondly. Enjoy!
This week I got a lesson in asking for help. First for the confession. I’m not good at asking for help. Really never have been. I guess I’m afraid asking for help will make me look weak or vulnerable or needy. Or maybe I’m just plain stubborn. You decide.
Anyway, here’s the thing. None of us live in isolation. There are people willing to listen and to help. There are people willing to brainstorm and just be there. There are people willing to love unconditionally and support without strings. We just have to let them. Okay, okay. I just have to let them. When I feel the need to discuss something personal or professional with someone, I hesitate because I know the person has his or her own issues to handle. So I return to trying to fix whatever it is myself. I’d like to say that I forget other people can help, but that’s just not true. Sometimes I feel like it’s my problem, so I should handle it. What right do I have to burden anyone else? Other times I just don’t want the person in question to see me as “less than” whatever image I think they hold of me. Yet other times I want to prove I can do it - that I don’t need anyone. All of this is ridiculous, and my logical brain is well aware of that. After all, I always encourage people to ask me for help.
Asking for help has been a problem for me on and off for years. I’ve oscillated between never wanting help and always wanting help. There’ve been times when I couldn’t make a decision on my own about anything for fear of upsetting others - family, husband, friends, etc. Other times I rejected any offered input. Sometimes I’ve nodded while other people offered advice I hadn’t requested knowing full well I wasn’t really listening. Yet other times I’ve been more balanced weighing input against my own thoughts and conclusions before making a decision. Always the hardest part for me is admitting “I need help. I need someone to listen and give me feedback.” Sometimes this is because I have to admit a defeat or a failure or or a fault that I don’t want to expose. Other times its because I really do think I should be able to figure it out on my own and not doing so is giving up. I’m no quitter.
This week I found myself feeling a bit out of balance. I have an approaching professional decision that required more information to make. I was struggling with some personal stresses, but I’d rather not go into detail about that. In addition there were several other demands on my attention both professional and personal. The day-to-day of living doesn’t stop because our lives demand attention elsewhere. So I finally turned to some trusted friends who I knew would give me very different perspectives on the issues on my mind. As I explained the circumstances to each friend, the results about the professional decision were basically the same with one standing out because it came with someone I’d worked with in a similar capacity to the role I’m considering. She was able to help me hone in on some ways to approach the situation keeping my own best interests squarely intact. As for the personal stresses, the two friends I discussed those with gave me some valuable input and helped me zero in on what was really bothering me. The two inputs were helpful in very different ways.
If I hadn’t asked for help, I’d still be stuck trying to organize those thoughts and feelings myself and might still be missing the underlying issue. And, while ultimately the decision and the actions taken must be mine, having my friends provide feedback in a caring manner gave me room to think through the possibilities and weigh the options in front of me. Releasing the issues by talking about them gave me room to turn my focus back to my work and my household chores.
So next time you’re trying to figure something out and the process is taking longer and requiring more energy than it should, turn to a trusted friend to vent. Ask for help. You never know it just may help you find peace and prosperity in your life. Remember, we all need support and love. Give it and receive it. Life will be the better for it. So might your writing.
In this week’s The Prosperous Writer, Christina Katz talks about being polite.
I have to admit when I read polite was this week’s topic, I murmered “No duh. That’s a given.” But then I thought about it. How often have you been somewhere where rudeness ruled the day? How often have you wondered if anyone teaches manners these days? So, okay, maybe some people do need to be reminded to be polite.
I am a Southern girl. Please, thank you, you’re welcome, yes ma’am, no sir, excuse me, sorry etc. roll off my tongue without effort. That being said I can also turn on the Southern charm and tell you in no uncertain terms where you can spend eternity - no, not heaven, sweetie - and have you thank me for it without even realizing it until later. You may think that doesn’t exactly fit the definition of polite, but in my world it does.
People sometimes accuse Southerns of having their very own brand of English, and there may be some truth to that. Where else can you hear someone drawl slowly, “Well, ya know he’d had no raisin.’ Bless his heart. His Momma and Daddy just did the best they could. Bless their hearts.” Translation. He ornery as a rattlesnake (oh, geez, I just threw another southern expression in there. Translation 2: He behaves really bad.) and his parents never disciplined him or taught him how to behave. But, oh, doesn’t the first one sound so much more polite.
Once I was temping at Boise Cascade in Boise, Idaho. My job was to call a list of their offices around the country to gather information. The first three I called I received very abrupt greetings, got my questions answered, and went on my way feeling grumpier by the call. The fourth call I made I didn’t even pay attention to the number as I dialed. The gentleman who answered greeted me very pleasantly with a cheerful hello. When I told him what information I needed from him, he replied “Well, yes ma’am. I’ve got that right here for you. You let me know when you’re ready.” I smiled and said. “I’m sorry, sir, but do you mind if I ask where you’re at.” He said. “Of course not, ma’am. I’m in Florida. And, what part of the South are you from, ma’am? I can tell you’re not from Boise.” I laughed. “Sir, I knew you were in the South. There’s just something about Southern manners. I’m from Kentucky.” He laughed. “Yes, ma’am, my Grandmama would have my hide if I didn’t mind my manners.” We finished our business and hung up after wishing each other a pleasant rest of the day. As I went to get a drink of water, I realized how his politeness had lifted my mood while the three early calls had made me feel like an intruder. Amazing what good manners can do.
When I was growing up, there was no choice but to use good manners. Everyone, including my parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, neighbors, and family friends would remind us to use our manners if we forgot. A few years ago I was with someone I didn’t know very well when her child asked me for something. I handed it to the child and when the child didn’t say thank you, I said “What do you say?” The child looked at me blankly and I was astounded. So I said very gently “Thank you. When someone hands you something you say “Thank you.” The child mumbled “Thank you.” I said “You’re welcome.” When I turned toward the mother, she was glaring at me. I mumbled to the mother “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep.” She shrugged. Since then I always look to the mother before saying anything to the child. It doesn’t change the fact that I feel all children should be taught good manners. I’ve just realized that unlike my upbringing some parents don’t appreciate others trying to teach their children manners.
When dealing with people in any setting, good manners always rule the day. They make people feel accepted and respected. My characters generally have good manners. Sometimes though, for plot lines, there are good reasons to create rude characters. They add interest to the story and depth to the characters. Showing someone who is normally polite suddenly being impolite can be a way to signal to the reader that the character is stressed, scared, or otherwise out of sorts.
One thing I’ve always found is that good manners open doors while bad manners get them slammed shut. When you treat someone politely, all you’re really doing is showing respect and consideration for the other person as a human being.
If you tend to through niceties out the window for the sake of convenience, I challenge you to incorporate them into your daily life. You may find being polite gets your faster, better results. You may find it attracts people to you who are helpful and want to see you succeed. You may find it makes interactions that you normally avoid more tolerable. You may just find that it attracts success right to your door.
So, thank you for reading my blog. And, I hope you’ll back real soon! You’re always welcome here!
My short story, Tears & Cookies, about saying goodbye is now available on Associated Content. Hope you enjoy it.
A while back I posted a link to my Author’s Forum interview on You Tube. It is still available on You Tube but is now also available on the website of the show’s host, Veronica Esagui. Please feel free to check it out. Enjoy!
This week Christina Katz discussed empowerment in The Prosperous Writer. I’m looking forward to exploring this topic. I like empowerment. I like empowering others and feeling empowered myself. The very word empowered makes me smile. I can’t help it.
It’s also odd that this week’s topic is empowerment because my husband and I were just discussing the topic while driving home from Kentucky. I’m concerned about my nieces and nephews and wish to empower them to see their lives don’t have to be what they presently see. I want them to realize they have the power within to envision a different reality for themselves and make it happen. I found that power years ago and I want to show it to them. I’ve taken some criticism and been accused of abandoning my roots for taking steps to create the life I wanted to live. I didn’t abandon my roots because I appreciate them and I don’t forget them; however, I choose to live differently than my upbringing. I kept what served me well, learned from what didn’t, and applied it all to creating my current life. I’m not talking about perfection. I’m talking about finding the power within to change circumstances that don’t serve one’s life goals and make one feel joyful and grounded on a daily basis. My husband pointed out that without daily contact with my nieces and nephew, the influences under which they live are going to be stronger than anything I can do. I accept that reality, but still I must try. If I don’t, what kind of aunt am I? I don’t think empowerment can be shoved down anyone’s throat. The best we can do is open a door and let people choose whether or not to walk through it.
I spend a lot of my time trying to empower others because I know what empowerment has done for me. There have been people throughout my life who have empowered me to dream big, to reach beyond expectations, and to see possibilities. The least I can do is pass that on to other people, so I give it a good faith effort.
When I chaired Murder in the Grove, I felt that part of my role was to empower the authors participating in the panels and workshops to feel confident about their participation in the conference and what they had to offer both in terms of content and their books. It was important to me that lesser known authors be treated with the same dignity by our committee and our vendors as the well known authors in attendance. In turn, I expected the authors to pass on empowerment to the conference attendees. For me, the goal of the conference was to send all those present home with a sense of empowerment to explore their career goals and to know they had contacts to whom they could turn for encouragement or with questions. In turn, I felt empowered by the energy of the conference, the participants, the attendees, and the committee. Eventually though I began to find that I was giving away more empowerment than I was getting in return, and I started to feel depleted. At that point, I needed to re-evaluate my priorities and my role in the conference. The re-evaluation forced me to look at how my own goals had been pushed to the side. I had to find ways to refocus on them and eventually, in part due to the additional challenges a move to a different state brought, found it necessary to resign to focus on my writing.
I actively work to encourage fellow writers on social media sites and in person whenever possible. I find that an encouraging word can make all the difference in times when someone feels less than powerful. Truth be told, I sometimes feel that lacking when I need it in my own life. Usually when that happens I turn to a couple of good friends that I know will remind me of my own power even if I don’t tell them I’m feeling less than empowered at the moment.
Sometimes friends and family will express pain or despair over life circumstances. If I can say something empowering, I do. If I can’t, I let him/her know that I care. Sometimes that’s enough to empower.
I’ve known people who exhausted all my empowerment with their incessant need. I learned that it’s important to replenish one’s supply. If someone is constantly in need of empowerment but completely unable to give back, you may need to pull back from time to time to take care of yourself. Sadly, some people can never get enough empowerment no matter what you do. They are only empowered in the moment the power is given but can’t maintain it beyond that. Those people will leave you feeling used and exhausted. When empowerment works like it should, the person receiving it will either give it back or will pass if forward or both. Either way, he/she will learn to generate their own empowerment.
Every morning take a moment to assess your own sense of empowerment. Do you feel like you can face the chores of the day? Do you feel like you can tackle your latest writing project or other project? Do feel the power within you that gives you the ammunition to proceed? If not, what can you do to find it? For every person, it’s something different. Maybe working out will do it for you. Maybe getting those first words written will do it. Maybe you need to call a friend for encouragement. Maybe you need to reach out to your support system. Tap into your empowerment in the way that works best for you. It may take a few tries before you know your best resource and especially before you can find it internally, but you’ll get there. You have the power!!
I encourage you to try to empower one other person once a week for the next month. It doesn’t have to be the same person. If that works, go for more often - twice a week, three times a week, or even everyday if you have the reserves. You might find you feel more empowered yourself.
Empowerment has the power to travel from one person to another, from one person to a group, from a group to one person, or even within one’s self. Empowerment has the power to wrap itself around a person and radiate from them in every action they take. Empowerment generates more empowerment when treated with integrity. Stand strong in your empowerment and give it freely!
Empowerment is how we move forward. Empowerment is how we create change. Empowerment is how we feel our own strength. Empowerment is how we help others find their strength. Empowerment fills the voids inside. Empowerment tells us we can accomplish our goals and our dreams. Empowerment allows us to stand strong. Empowerment gives us the strength, knowledge, and desire to empower others as well as ourselves.
I was out of town last week when Christina Katz wrote aobut being Integrated in The Prosperous Writer, so my first instinct was to just not post anything on the topic. After all, I was on vacation. Besides, at first I couldn’t think of anything to say. Of course that changed…
Just to clarify, my vacation was a family visit to Kentucky.
Being integrated in any sense of the word is an ongoing challenge. Whether we’re talking about integrating people or integrating the contradictory parts of ourselves. In 1999, I wrote a poem, Laid Bare, about the contradictions that create me. Here are a few lines from it.
I stand before you
Presenting all I am
Nothing more, nothing less
Battle scars and smiles
Bruised heart and laughs
Broken soul and forgiveness
Too harsh with words at times
Too sensitive for my own good
Blind with determination
Afraid to succeed
Dreams of a perfect life
Doubtful of anything too good
Embracing the future
Hiding from the past
Needing too much
Independent to a fault
Loving fully
Pushing love away
Too trusting
Not trusting myself
I stand before you
Risking all I am
As I integrated the various parts of myself, I found I could learn from my contradictions. My contradictions weren’t positive or negative, they were what I’d needed at various times in my life to survive. I continue to use those contradictions to inform my writing as well as to live a fuller and happier life. The parts of me that protect me have relaxed because they no longer fear I can’t handle living. This isn’t to say they’ve disappeared, only that they aren’t on full alert at all times any more. The side of me that can enjoy life permeates my being much more because I’ve stopped fearing that happiness will make me vulnerable to pain. Integrating my contradictions is important to living a happy life and writing successfully. On the other hand, I love my contradictions. They make me the unique me I am, so I no longer try to kill them. I simply accept them, and they integrate themselves.
I’ve said before that accepting myself was much harder than finding myself. Those contradictions played a monumental role in my reluctance to accept myself for years. I struggled to accept that I could have contradictory urges living inside me, so I would try desperately to suppress the one I thought most undesirable. As I began to accept that those undesirable thoughts, feelings, and urges were a part of who I was, their power dissipated. They began to feel less undesireable and more acceptable.
I wrote to explore those contradictions and their integration. I found inspiration in them. As my various contradictions became integrated, I feared losing my inspiration to write. Instead I discovered that the integration meant I could better understand not only myself but others. I could write work that honored my contradictions without getting mired in them.
What about you? Are your contradictions integrated? Or do you struggle against them constantly? I urge you to use your contradictions to inspire your work and to find integration within yourself. Just keep in mind, integrating yourself and your work is an ongoing process, so embrace it and enjoy it. Life is better when we integrate.
One question I’m often asked is “Where can I read your work?”
To buy my novel, All She Ever Wanted, go to my website, Xlibris, BarnesandNoble.com, and TatteredCover.com. You may also find it at other online outlets or can special order it through most bookstores. To order it throug Amazon, click on the link below
To buy Be the Star You Are! for Teens, the book in which my essay, The Gift of You, appears, go to my website, Be the Star You Are, or numerous other online bookstores.
To order through Amazon.com, click on the link below:
Book Marketing from A-Z by Francine Silverman contains contributions from me regarding marketing All She Ever Wanted. You can purchase it at Amazon.com as well as other places.
As we celebrate Independence Day in the United States, let’s take a moment to think about all those in our country and our world for whom independence is just another word in the dictionary. We often take for granted the very ideas of both progressiveness and tradition upon which our country is founded. As we watch the fireworks blazing across the sky, let us remember that each sparkle represents lost lives and the sacrifices of families. We speak of celebration, but we forget the cost that allows us to have that celebration. We laugh, we drink, we eat, and we play as people around the country - and the world - go hungry, look for jobs, and struggle to put another meal on the table. We visit with family and forget those who will never see loved ones again. We think of our own losses and forget about the losses of others. We take a day off and forget about all those working that allow us to have that day off. We choose to abuse our Earth and expect her to keep taking care of us with no replenishment. We criticize and belittle those with whom we disagree rather than look for solutions to our joint problems. We forget that we all live in this country - in this world - and what we do affects someone else. We forget that when we spew hate and violence, we deprive others of their independence. We think more about being right even when we know we’re wrong than doing right. We care more about putting others down than lifting our fellow human beings up.
So on this Independence Day, I encourage you to stop for one minute and think of those who may be hurting, hungry, or oppressed. I encourage you to approach life with joy and an attitude of gratitude. I encourage you to choose to do the right thing when the damaging thing would be easier. I encourage you to decide against hate and violence. I encourage you to love more and give more.
Then go ahead and celebrate the joys in your life, the family you have, the friends you’ve chosen, and the fact that you are first and foremost a part of the human family.
Protest Poems published my poem, Foreign Language, today. Check it out! Enjoy!
http://protestpoemsdotorg.blogspot.com/2010/07/t-l-cooper.html
This week Christina Katz talks about being joyful as a quality of The Prosperous Writer. I usually try to find some way to disagree with her take ever so slightly because, well, to be perfectly honest, I rather enjoy playing Devil’s Advocate… This week however, she hit on something I think bears repeating. “Because joy is connected to your soul. And that’s what makes it deeper and more profound than mere happiness, which is often more superficial and fleeting.”
I would put it slightly different. Joy is the result of inviting happiness into your being and allowing it permanent residence. Joy is when we choose to live in a state of happiness and optimism.
Even on my worst day, joy resonates from inside me as I put words to paper. Even tackling issues that anger me to my core can’t touch that joy. When you follow the path you’re meant to follow in life, joy finds its way into your life and holds on tight, hugs you when sad moments threaten your happiness, and gives you hope when all seems lost. Joy fills your being and radiates from you like a beacon when you allow it to have a home inside you.
I spent a lot of years steeped in negativity. I was raised with the motto “Hope for the best but expect the worst.” I understand this is an expression encouraging one to be prepared, but it also brings a certain sense of hopelessness and pessimism with it. If you always expect the worst, how are you ever supposed to see the best when it happens? I didn’t recognize the good in my life and the true possibilities life offers until I stopped living by this motto.
I pushed away love, friendship, and compassion because I expected the worst to come from relationships. I turned away numerous opportunities because all I could see were the worst possible outcomes. I avoided trust because all I could see was the potential for betrayal. I walked away from happiness and joy because I didn’t want to experience sadness and loss. Then one day I realized I was always sad and angry. That wasn’t the way I wanted to live. I decided then to take a risk on happiness even if that meant the worst happened. I decided to expect the best instead of the worst. The best began to happen, and for a moment I regretted all those lost years. In all honesty, I still have an occasional regret when I wonder how my life would be better if I’d expected the best earlier in my life. Then I remind myself, this is the path I needed to take to be the person I am today.
Slowly, because it is a process to allow joy to reside in you, I began to accept happy moments. I began to accept love when it was offered and to give love from a place of generosity instead of selfishness. I began to embrace friendship in a new way. I allowed people to care about me. I started trusting. My heart still races a little when I think about trusting people without reservation. I’m still working on that one. The more I allowed happiness to stay around, the more joyful I felt.
Somewhere along the way, I began to live in a joyful state. I smile easily, laugh readily even if I sometimes catch myself giving furtive glances when I do, and express love without the need for it to be returned. I learned it’s okay to embrace joy. Actually it’s more than okay, embracing a joyful state is essential to a healthy and productive life. My physical health even improved when I accepted joy into my being. I can sympathize and even empathize with my friends and family without my joyful state being destroyed. I can return to my joyful state to balance myself against the world.
When I first began to wake in a joyful state, I worried my work would suffer. I’d always written my most powerful work from the emotional state where I lived - anguish. As I released that anguish, I feared my writing would lose the power pain brought to it. I resisted joy. I fluttered between joy and miring myself in anguish for my work. The duality became unbearable, and, to be honest, I preferred the joyful state. One day as I wrote about an issue that angered and saddened me, I realized I felt joyful! My heart pounded with fear that my work would lose its power just as my soul had lost its anguish. I finished the first draft and sat down to read it. It was better than my previous work. A thread of hope weaved through the words while still expressing the urgency of the issue!
In allowing myself to accept joy in my life both personally and professionally, I’ve found a new way to embrace the world. I can be more honest, more vulnerable, and more open to others because I know my joy is safe even if I get hurt or disappointed.
So, I choose to live in a place of joy without forgetting the path I had to take to get there. I’m appreciative of every experience that brought me to joy even the ones that still hurt to my very core when remembered. I’ve learned to use that pain to inform my writing and inject a little hope from the joy I feel to make my work richer and fuller.
Do you use your joy and your path to joy to inform your writing and your life? I’m sure you do even if you don’t realize it. Think about it, embrace it, and write on!
When Kit came to live with us approximately a year and a half ago, I read a book called The Natural Cat by Anita Frazier. She talked highly of the benefits of fixing food for cats instead of feeding them commercial cat food. I liked the concept but was reluctant to try it, especially since the author highly favored a raw meat diet for the cat. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Giving Kit the occasional piece of raw chicken or beef while I cooked made me squeamish, so feeding her a full raw diet was too gross for me.
I researched cat foods and found a canned cat food that met my requirements for being healthy and made without fillers. I picked out a dry food for occasional meals. I found a variety of all natural snacks. Okay, we were set. Not really. I hated the smell of the canned food. I felt like it didn’t provide adequate nutrition. And, it certainly didn’t seem to bring Kit any joy. I kept going back to The Natural Cat to read those sections on food again. I also read Dr. Pitcairn’s Complete Guide to Natural Health for Dogs & Cats. Again, he advocated a raw meat diet, but his recipes seemed labor intensive and heavy on carbs when I read them. I wanted to try it but hesitated.
So Kit stayed on canned cat food with the occasional dry food. As I got busier, it became easier to give her the dry food. Plus it was less of a struggle to get her to eat it. Then I began to notice she was grumpy, slept more than before, and didn’t like to be touched. People would say “Oh, that’s just how cats are.” I didn’t buy it. I remembered cats from our farm growing up. Yes, they liked their private time, but they weren’t snappy and didn’t act like being touched was painful. So I considered cooking for her again.
Around this time we adopted two kittens from Safehaven Shelter in Albany, Oregon. A little gray domestic short hair we named Meme because she likes all the attention all the time - a real little “me me” and Todd, so named because he reminds my husband of his college friend, Todd. I calculated what it was going to cost to feed three cats a high quality canned food with an occasional high quality dry food thrown in for crunch and convenience. I was more than a little surprised. Then I did a rough estimate what it would cost to feed the three homemade food. It seemed comparable. So…
I bought another book, Food Pets Die For by Ann N. Martin. I became even more convinced feeding our cats an all natural, homecooked diet would be beneficial for their health, so I decided to give it a try. Oh, and Ann said cooking the food was okay as long as it wasn’t overcooked. So I combined ideas from the three books and set to work. First, we tried a cooked version of a recipe from Dr. Pitcairn’s book. A complete no-go. I wasn’t happy with the results and the cats acted like I was trying to poison them. It was just way too many carbs. Finding the meat amongst the oats was a daunting task. Okay, next… I went back to the drawing board and looked at the recipes in the other two books. I decided to try one from Food Pets Die For. It was a better meat, veggie ratio with less grain - a little brown rice. They ate it but didn’t love it. I followed the hints in the books and mixed it with their canned food for awhile. I experimented with the amount of meat, vegetables, and rice until I found a combination they would eat. In the end, I discovered they really preferred no rice at all, so I adapted the recipe to meet their tastes.
Right in the middle of this, my husband and I decided to try “meat free” diet. So I cut out cooking meat for us. (See The Meat Free Experiment for more details about that.) I found it strange to be cooking meat for the cats but not for us. I also worried the smell of cooking meat would make us crave the meat, but it didn’t happen.
For those thinking it’s too much trouble. I generally cook for my cats at breakfast or dinner as I’m working on loading and/or unloading the dishwasher and preparing our meal. Yeah, it adds a few minutes to meal preparations, but not so much as to be a nusiance. Like anything in life, it’s a bit time consuming until you develop a rhythm.
So, now every two to three days I fix up a batch of homemade cat food. It goes in the fridge and keeps well. They eat it and love it. One of our cats won’t eat the canned food now on the rare occasion we run out of the homemade. On occasion I give them a can of sardines or mackerel as a treat. And, we still keep a few all natural treats around just in case we need them. Strangely after putting the cats on the all natural diet, they eat twice a day and almost never ask for treats. They’ve gone from each eating eight ounces of food a day to each eating six ounces of food a day. They play more, they’re friendlier, and Kit likes being touched more.
We are getting ready to go on our first twelve day trip since the cats came to live with us, so this week I’ve been preparing food for our abscence. I’m freezing it in individual serving sizes to make it easier on the neighbor who has agreed to feed them while we’re gone. I’m a little anxious about how they’ll do, but I’m likely worrying for nothing…
Anyway, if you’d like to try feeding your cat(s) or dog(s) all natural foods, I suggest reading any of the above books, and I’ll be happy to share my cats’ favorite recipe with you. Just let me know.
And, for those of you who are disappointed this isn’t about writing, well, sometimes, I just need to focus on something a bit disconnected from my usual concerns.
Besides from time to time we have to honor the influences in our lives even if they are the animals that keep us company while we tap away on the keyboard to arrange words we so love into meaningful prose.
If you’d like to buy any of the books mentioned in this article, please click on the link below:
I discovered today that Amazon has discounted the trade paperback of All She Ever Wanted. If you’ve been wanting to buy a copy, here’s your chance to get it “on sale.” I have no idea it will be available at that price.
As I read Christina Katz’s discussion of rhythm in The Prosperous Writer, the thought popped into my head “Oh, my God, I’ve lost my rhythm.” But have I really?
I don’t think so. I think my rhythm has just been undergoing an adjustment. It’s like when you’re on the dance floor and you’ve been dancing to fast music for quite a while, and suddenly, without warning, the DJ plays a slow song. Your body still vibrates in tune to the faster rhythm for a minute while you struggle to force it to find the new rhythm. A couple of deep breaths starts the body on the road to adjustment. Sometimes an almost imperceptible shake of a hand, foot, or the head helps the body adjust to the new rhythm. Next time you’re on the dance floor watch the people around you, and you’ll see even the most rhythmic person on the floor will seem a bit off during the adjustment.
Or try it yourself in your living room. Close the blinds if you’re self-conscious about your dancing skill or the neighbors thinking you’re crazy. Put on music to play in a random order and dance. Make sure the selection you choose has both fast and slow songs. Then just have fun with it. Feel the change in your body as the rhythms shift unexpectedly. Then think about your writing rhythm.
Writing is no different. If you write in multiple disciplines as I do, you’ll find when you shift from nonfiction to poetry or poetry to fiction the mind, the heart, the mind, the soul, and the physical body must all shift to find the appropriate rhythm. Once the rhythm is found, the words flow easier just like dancing to the slow song eased when the body adjusted to the rhythm. When you try to jump from one writing discipline to another without allowing your rhythm to adjust, you will stumble and the words will come out all wrong - jumbled and incoherent.
Once you understand your writing rhythm, you can make it work better for you. So play with it until it fits you. When the rhythm lets you know you need a shift, pay attention. It just may be trying to help you improve your work.
Last night at about 1:39 in the morning or so, I got out of bed disgusted that I couldn’t sleep. Thoughts were churning through my mind, but they weren’t the kind of thoughts a writer wants in the wee hours of the morning. So, I sat down at my computer and tried to see if there was anything useful I could pull from those thoughts. There wasn’t. Well, I paid a bill I’d forgotten about, so I guess that was useful. But there was no creative burst that I could build on.
Finally, I read for a while and fell into a restless sleep a little after 3:00am. So this morning, I’m tired and perhaps a bit edgy, but I started thinking about how different people’s energy meshes. There are people in our lives who stimulate our creative energy, and there are people who drain us of our creative energy. It’s no one’s fault. It just is. Okay, that may not be entirely true. People have different energies and they attract different energies, so fault might not be the right word. People have a certain amount of responsibility for the energy they cultivate in their lives. When someone’s energy makes us feel good, we move toward that energy naturally. When someone’s energy drains us, we tend to flee. Well, sometimes, some of us flee from energy that makes us feel too good. I know I’m guilty of that at times. But, overall, we soak up that positive energy and hope we’re giving back the same positive energy to those around us.
Today, I’m feeling this give and take of energy more so than usual. Friday I got a jolt of creative energy after a casual round of witty banter with an old friend. Really just having a little fun when I was already in a playful mood. The jolt of creative energy was entirely unexpected but most welcome. I realized shortly thereafter that for some reason this particular friend is stimulating my creativity every time we chat. Not sure why, but I’m not about to run away from that. We rarely even discuss anything remotely related to my writing. I read back over the conversation (weird how conversations often aren’t really anymore huh?) yesterday and smiled but couldn’t, for the life of me, see what jolted my creativity. Oh, well, gift horse and all that.
Yesterday afternoon I had a conversation that drained me emotionally, mentally and creatively. After the conversation, I sat and stared at my computer, my legal pad, my pile of editing, and couldn’t get two thoughts to connect to save my life. It wasn’t the first time a conversation with this person has had this affect. So I tried to clean, wandered around the house, and fell into a funk. So some might say, don’t talk to the person who zaps your energy. Well, sometimes it’s just not that easy. And, this is one of those cases.
Sometimes the people who zap our energy, creative or otherwise, are those we love the most. That’s when it becomes difficult to work around the energy drain. When someone we love drains our energy, how do we get it back? How do we keep the relationship from destroying us? Or the energy drain from affecting the relationship? Now don’t tell me that when we really love someone, we don’t do that to them. That’s just not true. This isn’t about consciously hurting another person. It’s about the energy we share with another person. It doesn’t even mean that the energy I share with someone will be the same energy you share with that person. Each interaction has it’s own energy field created by the people involved. Sometimes even the timing of the interaction can affect the energy between the participants.
Now, I’m trying to find my way back to creativity starting with writing this blog. Sometimes releasing the overpowering energy that zaps our own energy is about recognizing it’s been zapped and releasing it. Sometimes it’s about recognizing our own contribution to the energy drain. Sometimes it is about recognizing how certain people’s energy reacts with our own and either increasing or decreasing contact accordingly. Sometimes it’s just about recognizing that someone - the other person or you - is just having a bad day…
So I encourage you to look at the energy creators and the energy drains in your life. Examine whether or not the energy is exchanged or just taken. Sometimes we don’t mean to drain others but we do. If you find yourself being a drain on others, look for ways to give as well as take in the realm of positive energy.
I struggle with this idea of the give and take of positive energy all the time. If you have any advice for me on how you manage both the energy creators and the energy drains in your life, then please share. After all, we’re all in this life together. All of our energies affect one another.
Hope I can bring a little positive energy to your creative self today!
Today, Jessica Morrell asked the following on her Facebook Page “So with Father’s Day approaching, I’m wondering, what did your father teach you?” Earlier this week, my friend Kelly Deaton posted praises of her father for teaching her to change a tire but more so for teaching her to take care of herself.
I posted replies on both their posts with comments praising my Daddy. I decided to expand on those comments a bit here.
Daddy was the first man in my life as Dad’s tend to be for most little girls. (Okay, male readers, this is going to be from a daughter’s perspective, so don’t feel left out. I know Dads are important to sons as well.) I was a Daddy’s girl through and through. I thought my Daddy was about as close to perfect as a human being could possibly be. Growing up, I remember him joking “I thought I made a mistake once, but turns out I was wrong.” I liked it then, and the memory of it brings a smile to my face. I’m not sure if he still says that because I’ve not heard it in a while, but he probably does. Daddy set the standard for every man I ever dated or even befriended, and rarely did they meet the standard of my vision of my Daddy. That may actually say more about me than them, but I think this is true for most daughters. For better or worse, every Daddy teaches his daughter(s) what men are supposed to be.
As a little girl, people called me “Little Dean” and I beamed. I wanted nothing more than to be just like my Daddy. He was strong and smart and gentle and kind and fair. But, he could also be a swift and harsh disciplinarian when necessary. And, he holds some beliefs that I’ve been unable to adopt as my own, but in a way he taught me that was okay as well.
Daddy told me never to start a fight, but if someone else did to stand my ground no matter what. There have been times in my life when I took this a bit too literally, but, hey, that’s what life is all about. And, I’m sure people who know me would be able to quickly remember fights I picked though I can’t think of a single one at the moment. I said he taught me, not that I got it. I do stand my ground though - at least when I know I’m right.
Daddy always pushed me to be independent. He often told me to not rely on others to do what I could do myself. He instilled in me an understanding that others might not be willing or available to help me when needed. He also taught me to talk a good game with mechanics. When I was in college (1988-1991), I drove a 1982 maroon Mustang. I loved that car even though it wasn’t the one I’d picked out originally. (Story for another day.) When it broke down, I took it to the mechanic across the street from my residence hall. The owner of the shop told me what was wrong with it and quoted me a price to fix it. It sounded so scary and was so much money. I thought I would burst into tears. Instead, I squared my shoulders, looked him straight in the eyes, cocked my head to the side slightly, and smiled. “Well, I have to go call my Daddy about this because something doesn’t sound quite right. He’s a mechanic, and he has to give me the money to have it fixed. I’ll be back after I talk to him.” He stopped me just as I reached the door. “Let me take another look. Maybe my mechanic made a mistake.” I looked at him for a long minute then shrugged. “I’m still going to go call my Daddy.” And, I did. Daddy told me exactly what to say to the mechanic when I went back over there and when to be quiet and let the mechanic back himself into a corner. I learned a valuable lesson, and I’m not afraid to talk to a mechanic now. The quiet thing seemed to work the best for me, and I often employ it.
On the other hand, unlike Kelly’s Dad, my Daddy didn’t teach me to change a tire, change the oil in my car, or several other things he considered “men’s work”. Maybe it was more my phobia of dirty hands that stopped him from teaching me certain things. He called me his “city girl” while shaking his head and smiling.
I didn’t take to farm work particularly well, but I learned a lot about hard work from Daddy. He farmed and logged year round and worked at a tractor store in the winters. He walked a portion of our farm every single day. He taught me to not expect payment to be commiserate with the hard work I put in, but to be grateful for every penny earned. I’ve sometimes wondered if this particular lesson reverberating in my head has held me back at times in my life. I’ve read that you get what you expect, so maybe I should abandon this lesson and expect more… I’ll have to give that one some thought. The gratitude part holds though.
Anyone who knows my Daddy will tell you he’s rather quiet. He tends to only speak when he really has something to say. This can be very unnerving to some people. I talk a lot - ask anyone who knows me, but Daddy taught me the value of keeping quiet. You learn a lot about the person talking to you. What you do say tends to hold more weight than when you chatter nonstop. Essentially, this means that while a talker often gets tuned out, a quiet person will attract attention when speaking. I try to remember this, but it’s a struggle for me.
Daddy also taught me that education is important not because he is well educationed but because he dropped out of school after the eighth grade. That made it that much more important to him that I finish high school and go to college. He instilled the idea in me that I could go after anything I wanted as long as I was willing to suffer any consequences it brought my way.
My Daddy’s love for my Mom taught me that love isn’t always easy…
Overall, I think the most important lesson that my Daddy taught me is that I will always be special to someone no matter what mistakes I make in life. And, that my friends, is one lesson I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.
So Dads, please make sure your children know they are special and always will be to someone. Daughters (and sons, too) recognize that while your Dad may not have given you everything you wanted or even needed, he did the best he could.
And, thanks Daddy!
This week in The Prosperous Writer, Christina Katz talks about being slightly dis-satisfied. She encourages writers to “take your critical eye and turn it towards your own work, not other people’s work, so you can look for ways you can improve what you do instead of critiquing what others are doing.”
I’ve been thinking hard about this concept of being slightly dis-satisfied since I read The Proserous Writer Tuesday. I’m pretty good at approaching my work with a critical eye - some even think I’m overly critical of my work. I tend to edit, edit, and then edit some more. I’m never 100% satisfied, and I’m always willing to listen to critical analysis from others. I have a tendency to take slight dis-satisfation and hammer away at it relentlessly. There comes a point when I have to let go, when I have to accept that I’ve done my absolute best and any more revision is simply perfectionism gone awry.
While I agree with her that slight dis-satisfaction is an important tool for writers to tweak their work and make it the best work it can be, my tendency toward perfectionism makes slight dis-satisfaction a potential minefield for me. Be careful to use slight dis-satisfaction to your advantage and not your detriment.
Know when slight dis-satisfaction is improving your work and when it has become an exercise in achieving the unachievable. Sometimes that goal toward the unachievable is actually procrastination in revealing some vulnerability in the work. When focusing on slight dis-satisfaction ventures into unrealistic perfectionism or procrastination, find a trusted friend to read the work and provide feedback. Then you can know if you’re really feeling slight dis-satisfied, being too perfectionistic or procrastinating.
This week in The Prosperous Writer, Christina Katz discusses vision. As part of that discussion she focuses on creating a vision of the professional career one desires.
This couldn’t have hit me at a more apropos time. I started writing a publicity/marketing plan for my latest manuscript - a chore I’d been avoiding for a long time - the day before The Prosperous Writer on vison arrived in my email box.
I had a good excuse, or so I told myself, for procrastinating the publicity plan. Every time I started to work on it, a rewrite of the novel became necessary. So I pushed the publicity plan to a later date. Finally, I put it on March 5, 2010 with a “hard” deadline. When I didn’t complete it on time, I let it go red on my Outlook Task List. It was at the top of the list screaming at me that I was avoiding it. Okay, publicity plans tend to be a bit tedious. Anyway, this week, I finally put my butt in the chair and started working on it.
I answer a series of questions about the book, myself, and my career goals to create a publicity plan. As I started working through the questions, something started to shift inside of me. Distractions began to fall away and my vision of my goals became clear again. I started realizing that since I wrote my last marketing plan for a manuscript of short stories that I’ve yet to publish, I’ve actually accomplished some of the goals listed in that publicity plan. I began to feel energized about my career again. I hadn’t even realized my enthusiasm had waned. Interesting how focusing on one’s vision for the future can crystalize those goals laying on the periphery.
I started out thinking I would rush through the publicity plan just to get it off my list, so I could focus on other things. When I relaxed and started thinking the answers to the questions through, I began to feel better about myself, my career, my process, my progress, and my future. I strongly believe this is because as the distractions melted away, they stopped clouding the vision of my future I’d set a while ago. The focus on what I’d accomplished and what I still want to accomplish reminded me to keep my eye on the overall vision, work toward making my goals happen, and embrace opportunities I hadn’t considered that may get me closer to my vision of not only my career but my life.
Without vision, one wanders aimlessly. Aimless will get you somewhere. The question is will it get you where you want to go? For me, I took a detour onto Aimless Street that actually released my creativity but clouded the path to my long term vision. In the short term, Aimless Street was exactly what I needed, but I wanted to stay too long. Now it’s time to merge from Aimless Street back on to Vision Highway.
So, with my vision of my future clear again, I’m ready to reassess some goals and make sure I’m on the right track.
Is your vision of your future cloudy or clear? I encourage you to embrace it and find out. Once you see it clearly, remember, the path isn’t concrete, it will shift like an unfamiliar mountain trail. Don’t be so rigid, that you lose your way because you can’t see beyond the step in front of you. And, I’m going to remember to remind myself of that as well.
Last night I attended a lecture by Maya Angelou. She spoke at the Elsinore Theatre in Salem, Oregon. State Senator, Jackie Winters, introduced Dr. Angelou with heartfelt words.
When the curtain rose to reveal Dr. Angelou sitting in a chair on the stage in a long cream colored dress and a beautiful necklace, I was struck by the energy that eminates from her. She looked frailer than I expected, but at eighty-two she has the right to look a bit frail. As soon as she began to speak, the strength of her character, her words, and her convictions displaced the initial fraility I noticed.
I’ve long wanted to hear Dr. Angelou speak in person. I missed her years ago when she was in Boise because I was silly enough to think attending by myself would make me look like I didn’t have any friends. This time, I guess I’ve matured because I really don’t care about that anymore. I attended by myself though a friend who also attended met me for dinner before and a coffee after. Plans we made after we found out we were both attending.
When Maya began to speak - or rather sing ”When it lookd like the sun wasn’t gonna shine anymore, God made a rainbow in the clouds” a tear threatened the corner of my eye. I blinked it back and concentrated on her words. After the song, she spoke of her life experience and of accepting others. She spoke of helping others and loving those unlike what we see in the mirror. She spoke of the humanness of all of humanity. She quoted others’ poetry and read/recited her own. She encouraged the audience to read and memorize poetry that means something to us. She injected funny moments, comments, and anecdotes at just the right moments to keep my tears from actually falling. She never forgot her appearance was part of a fundrasier for the 50+ Center in Salem seamlessly working comments about the organization into her talk. She told an audience full of people they matter in a way that made each individual feel she spoke directly to him/her. She opened, reiterated, and closed with the idea that we all have the potential to be rainbows in other people’s lives.
I thought about people from my own life. I thought about moments of acceptance and love I’ve witnessed. I thought about moments of absolute rudeness and cruelty I’ve witnessed. I thought about the excuses I’ve heard for people’s racism. I thought about misconceptions I’ve held that have been disproven. I thought about people I’ve admired and loved. I thought about people who’ve influenced me throughout my life. I listened to her honesty about events in her life and wondered when I’ll be able to be so honest about events from my past. It’s not that I’m dishonest now, it’s more that I’m not comfortable to talk openly in a public setting about certain events from my life. I understand those events have helped create the person I am today, but I hesitate to share them with strangers. Perhaps I still fear judgment or pity though I’m loathe to admit that even to myself, so I fight even writing it as a possibility.
I thoroughly enjoyed my evening sitting only a few feet away from the stage as Dr. Angelou spoke. I walked away inspired to continue writing about issues that are important to me in a way that will both entertain and provoke conversation. I feel encouraged to continue living the life I’ve chosen for myself - one based on love, understanding, and acceptance. I am invigorated to tackle projects that require me to delve into that sense of honesty that makes me feel too vulnerable.
Dr. Angelou spoke the words I needed to hear. Often when we open ourselves to listen we hear exactly what we need to hear even when the same words are spoken to a room full of people who will each come away with their own interpretation of the words based on their own individual needs.
The only thing that would have improved an already perfect evening is if she’d read her poem, Human Family. It is my favorite poem. To that end, I’m going to take her advice that poetry belongs to us all and quote the beginning and the end of the poem. It begins “I note the obvious differences/in the human family./Some of us are serious,/some thrive on comedy” and ends “We are more alike, my friends,/than we are unalike.”
I request you find the poem and read the middle because it really is the best part.
Wishing to hear Human Family live is a selfish conceit after such an uplifting and beautiful talk. I’m incredibly grateful for the opportunity to listen to Dr. Angelou speak in person.
And, don’t forget, you can be a rainbow in someone’s life because in the end we really are more alike than unalike.