Unclench the Jaws of Your Mind

Quick note: I send out my newsletter, which eventually become these posts, twice a month. But I haven’t had time to transfer them over all year (!!), so don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter if you want writing support throughout the year.

---

Look at those kitty ears! Tell me they didn't give you a little joy bump as soon as you saw them. That's Luna, our new kitty, who is seven months old already!


I think of my newsletter often, writing it in my head, saving links and resources throughout the month, dog-earing pages....So trust me when I say that I was SO disappointed to not be able to get one out to you in August. It's the first month in forever that I've skipped a whole month and I missed sharing what's lighting me up, what I'm looking forward to, sending a bit of encouragement, sharing books I loved (and adored), and connecting across time and space. 


It's a whirlwind of a season for me, but I'm learning so much about how to support creatives in my social work internship at an arts high school. No better place for a YA author, that's for sure! One kid told a social worker she was an "unreliable narrator" because she told him he was smart - LOL. I can't make up half the stuff these kids say in session. They are so creative, so smart, so much more free than I or my fellow creative peers were allowed to be. The combination of it being 2024 and an arts high school is a powerful tonic for self-acceptance. When I lose hope, I see how much we writers and creatives have helped shaped the world for the better.


I remember when I wrote Something Real, which pubbed in January 2014, it was a big deal to have a scene where the protagonist's gay brother and his boyfriend come out and have a public promposal. At the school where I offer therapy, most of the kids are queer and this would be no big deal whatsoever. This isn't the case everywhere, mind you, and we have a looooong way to go. I hope you'll consider joining Authors Against Book Bans if you're an author, or any organization fighting this wave of bans. But I also hope you will know that the work we put out there really does chip away at the barriers between humans.


Stories shape the world--I truly believe that. When we share our story, or any story, really, we invite people into lives that are not their own and this works their empathy muscle, whether they want it to or not! If you're losing heart, just know that it all adds up. 

So, I'm busy as hell. And I don't want to be - it TOTALLY goes against my mindfulness practice and the very foundation of what causes me to go into a flow state. I was flipping through Mary Karr's The Art of Memoir for a client and I ran across the following quote that I've always loved. It felt like I was doing some form of bibliomancy, as though the book were a deck of tarot cards and I'd just asked, "How do I find time to write in this insane season of my life?" She says:



"To tap in to your deepest talent, you need to seek out a calm, restful state of mind where your head isn't defending your delicate ego and your heart can bloom open a little. For me, my mind is constantly checking where I am in line, comparing myself to others, or even to a former self, racing, fretting, conniving to get ahead. But underneath that is another self that quietly notices all that. A friend called to say she was going crazy once, and I said, 'Who's noticing that?' You want to get next to that quiet, noticer self as a starting place. 



Just apply your ass to the chair (as someone wise once said, a writer's only requirement) and for fifteen or twenty minutes, practice getting your attention out of your head, down to some wider expanse in your chest or solar plexus--a place less self-conscious or skittery or scared. The idea is to unclench your mind's claws. So don't judge how your thoughts might jet around at first. Eventually, you'll start identifying a little bit with that detached, watcher self and less with your prattling head. You're seeking enough quiet to let the Real You into your mind."



I put the sections that resonated most with me in bold - you'll have your own highlights, but I bet many of you are resonating with what she's saying. The way she describes this practice of getting to the writer's seat, it feels doable, right? 15-20 minutes. Unclenching the mind's claws. YES. When I lead meditation sit on my own, I often say, soften, soften to the tense parts in my body. What if I did that in the writer's seat, said "soften" to the parts of me that are comparing this Heather to a more productive writing Heather? To the Heather who wants to get it right? To the Heather who is so tired? 


I suppose, then, it's perfect timing for what's becoming a twice-yearly tradition: The Cozy Mini Writing Retreat! I do this in autumn and February.


Click below to learn more and sign up to see how tapping in to this noticer self, to the Real You, as Karr describes it, can benefit your writing practice and your overall mental health.


If you can't make it, I'm endeavoring to create an on-demand recorded version of it, with the exercises, etc. by Thanksgiving, but I can't guarantee when I'll get that out. I hope you can make it on Sunday, November 17th from 12-3 EST! These are deeply nourishing mini retreats and always re-set me when I'm in the frenzy of autumn, just before the holiday season commences. 


Together, we will learn to soften in the writer's seat. We'll be practicing tonglen meditation, which is a powerful Tibetan Buddhist practice of energetic work that combines breath, visualization, and intention. We'll have time to free write, time for structured exploration, and time to get in touch with our bodies with mindful self-compassion. 


I hope we can all feel this level of cosiness for the three hours we'll be together. 

Here's to the most wonderful time of the year and all this season of beginning to turn inwards gifts to us writers. 


15-20 minutes. Ass in chair. Unclench the jaws of the mind. We've got this. 

A Place To Find Your Voice

“A self that goes on changing is a self that goes on living.”

— Virginia Woolf

---

Happy New Year! I rang in 2024 with 108 sacred bells at my Zen center and it was a gorgeous beginning to the year. We sat in a candlelit room, taking turns softly hitting the gong as we meditated for over an hour. I was wrapped in a warm shawl, allowing the past year to flow through me, sending out gratitude and lovingkindness. Listening to the distant sounds of revelry outside. Feeling the presence of those in the room with me.


Each bell would bring me into the present moment, the vibrations rippling through me like medicine. We knew it was midnight when the final two gongs sounded. I thought I would miss the champagne and seeing the ball drop, but, nope: I can think of no better way to meet all that this year will bring. To welcome another year of life with silence reminded me of how sacred each moment of our lives is--our breath, the water we drink, the roofs over our head. I knew as those bells sounded that there was so much suffering in the world, even in the room with me, even within myself. And yet, the bells keep ringing...Humans are pretty damn beautiful when they're not blowing things up. 


Speaking of beautiful humans: have any of you seen this gorgeous 60-second meditation? I LOVE IT SO MUCH.



Click on it now and see what happens. If anything about the season you're in right now doesn't have 108-bell-high-vibe-energy, that's okay: being human is the hardest job in the world. 



I'm behind on all my journaling and reflecting, but I think that's a good thing. I rather like the idea of easing into a new year and taking the time to let 2023 metabolize and try this new year on for size slowly, cozily, and with discernment. The above image is my new calendar, which I adore, not least of which because January features "The Writer's Cottage: A place to find your voice." This whole image is chocolate for my writing soul: dark hot cocoa with maple marshmallows, anyone?


I'm excited by the idea of place being connected to voice and I wonder what the past few years of living in L'Etoile du Nord has done to mine.


It feels a bit softer, a bit more thoughtful. These long winter months bake that slower pace into you. I have more than ever to say, but there are new ways of saying it that are emerging. I'm curious how your places are impacting your work. One of my favorite things is when a writer mentions in their acknowledgments where they wrote a book and why that mattered. (If you haven't listened to Barbara Kingsolver talk about Demon Copperhead, voice, and place on the Armchair Expert podcast, you're in for a treat.) Anyway, don't you just want to rent that cabin right now?! 

Above: Miss Circe...not sure which of us needs the sun lamp more!

See that picture on the bottom left of the whiteboard, the one with the hands? It's from an issue of National Geographic and these handprints are considered one of, if not the very first, examples of human art. Those are ancient handprints, created and left there...why? What compelled those early humans to leave their handprints behind? That need to create, to share, to make a mark--it's in all of us.


We are in the lineage of whoever decided to decorate those cave walls.


An ancient lineage of creators who, despite darkness and fear and illness and uncertainty, took the time to make some beautiful. Something that would outlast them and serve to inspire future generations. Something they didn't get paid to do. Food for thought for those of you who are feeling a bit hopeless, and dreading - if you're American - the upcoming presidential election and everything that's happening to vulnerable people in the US and on its borders. There is a lot to be afraid of no matter where you are, and I suspect those early humans were deep into fight-flight-freeze mode on the regular. But they still made art because they were compelled to. Sometimes you get paid when you're compelled to make things and sometimes you don't. Bet they had no idea I'd be writing about their work a gazillion years later, looking at it every day for inspiration as I try to make sense of what the point of me writing anything is. I also feel such sweet love for our species when I think about how, as kids, our handprints were some of the first works of art we were taught to create, too.

The Page of Pentacles makes me think of those handprints and the people who made them: let's see what happens, let's try a thing, let's risk making fools of ourselves. 


This happens to be the card I pulled for the year, which is so perfect for where I'm at now with all my new endeavors and projects. The Page is the youngest of the court cards and is all about curiosity and beginner's mind. The pentacles represent our livelihood and the concerns of day-today life, including our homes and families. I love this card's illustration from the Light Seer's Tarot: she's rooted in the earth and sacred tradition while staying in motion with the mandala that is her complex life's weavings. 


It can be hard to be the Page because it's an admission that there is more to learn and a willingness to fail. It's knowing you have a lot further to go, and working with the season you are in, trusting that the wisdom of the Queen and King will eventually weave itself into you. 


The Virginia Woolf quote at the top of the newsletter speaks to the Page, as well: "A self that goes on changing is a self that goes on living." We are changing, we must, whether we like it or not. Bodies that are aging, life circumstances that have shifted, approaches to writing and reading that are unexpected. A whole industry - publishing - undergoing enormous and constant change, even if some of its most frustrating aspects haven't changed a bit.


Change is the nature of all life, and embracing change, rather than resisting it, is what will allow us to meet change with the dynamic energy of curiosity and non-judgement. 


My upcoming self-compassion intensive for writers feels supported by this energy of openness and curiosity: diving in to caring for ourselves in a culture that tells us to muscle up, buttercup is a way to access our beginner's mind and to have that childlike approach to trying and maybe failing and then trying again. What would it feel like to be kind when you fail, when you have a tough day, when you break promises to yourself? And how can that kindness actually support and strengthen your writing practice? Paradoxes abound! 

While we can't all launch ourselves into the writer's cottage from my calendar, we can bring a little bit of it into our lives. Where are the pockets of sweet contemplation you can bring into your day? How might you rustle up some of that cozy magic as you ease into this new year with deep care for your energy, your boundaries, and your heart?

May you be happy, healthy, safe, and inspired this year!

It's Time For A Breakthrough

“You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.

”

— Maya Angelou

We talk a lot in this Lotus & Pen space about mental hygiene and mindfulness and how to care for yourself in and out of the writer's seat.


One form of care I know to be essential is that, no matter how busy life gets, we need ways to continually be challenging and growing as writers. 


I'm not talking about taking another class or reading another craft book - good things, yes (I am an MFA professor, after all); in engaging that way, we're often just stuffing our heads with more information, when what we need is


s p a c i o u s n e s s. 


What would it look like to grow without picking up another book, taking another class, listening to another podcast? 
My friend Minna has taken to using the term "low-key" when talking about hang-outs. They do this to signal an understanding that we are all exhausted and that spending time together doesn't have to be a whole thing. We can just low-key, low-stakes hang out. 


And, so, in that spirit, I want to share some low-key ways that you can grow this upcoming fall season, ways that you can catch that back-to-school energy but avoid the sometimes manic panic that comes with setting impossible deadlines for yourself. (Such as, I will finish this book I've barely started by Christmas. That kind of thing). 
 

Breakthrough sessions look different for every writer because it depends on why they want to do 1:1 work in the first place. For some, it's a space where we're looking to build up their confidence after a tough writing season, or to get them into a strong writing habit that works for their life. For others, it's about cracking the code on a project: lots of brainstorming, exercises from me, generative work. Others may be struggling with the inner critic or on the verge of giving up or not certain how to navigate a project that is throwing them into an emotional tail-spin.


Often, writers schedule these calls because they are tired of breaking promises to themselves, of watching yet another year slip by where the writing just...didn't happen. By the end of our time together, we've done the work to get them back on track. 


Whatever the reason, I make sure that our call includes lots of exploratory work they can do on their own. Homework! Because I'm a nerd.


Below are some of the generative activities that came out of recent 1:1 Breakthrough Calls with writers. Take what's useful and leave the rest. 

One writer wanted to "foster delight" in her writing practice while she's working on a painful memoir. She happens to be very curious about middle grade despite being a literary author, so we came up with a reading list of middle grade books and gave her permission to take breaks from the memoir to explore playing around with a middle grade story. 

• This same writer needed support in and out of the writer's seat because working on personal and traumatic material is deeply activating. I shared several sections of a curriculum I wrote for UCLA on building a mindful self-compassion toolbox when writing trauma. These include mindfulness, meditation, and writing practice. 

• One writer I did an editorial critique for discovered in our call that he might have Complex PTSD. This came out of my notes that the protagonist presented this way, but that we didn't know where this came from. I suggested he read Arielle Schwartz's fantastic primer, A Practical Guide to Complex PTSD. I'm not able to diagnose him, but, armed with this knowledge, he can now bring this possibility to a helping pro AND deepen his character on the page by understanding her mental health landscape. 

• This same writer wasn't sure how to do this work of building the complex PTSD of his character's background, so I forwarded him my Story Genius Cheat Sheet, which shares some great side-writing exercises from that book. Of course, he also has my Unlock workbook and 31 Days of Writing workbook. 

• A writer I've been working with for years who has a very strong practice was recently hit with several health issues and has found it very difficult to focus at home. We talked about how she might spend a couple days a week at a co-working space or coffeehouse, but that doesn't work for her. What we landed on was deepening her mindfulness practice and using labeling to help her be aware of her habit energy. When a package is delivered, she doesn't need to get up and get it right away, as others in the home can do that. So when the urge to get up comes over her, she can label this, "Package." Just that simple action breaks her out of knee-jerk reactions to outside stimuli that unnecessarily take her from her writing. We combined that with a phrase that really helps her that she wrote on a post-it above her desk to stay focused on her goal of finishing this revision. 

• Another writer who's working on a memoir is really uncertain as to whether it's actually a memoir or non-fiction. Over four Breakthrough calls, we've done a multitude of exercises to figure out what the book she wants to read is, articulating what she wants to say and who her audience is, and looking at different kinds of structures she might use. We looked at the concept of psychic distance, interrogating all the threads of her story, and sought out guiding metaphors. This involved studying her comp titles, writing an annotated bibliography, and writing the jacket copy, lots of side-writing exercises that I curated for her, some RAIN meditation to support her in this difficult work, and more. 

• Another writer is working on a new project and re-considering her process. She got stuck on a particular chapter, so we looked at what might be behind that. We realized she was telling herself a story that she's wasted time since having her child and worked on ways to reframe that story so that she can see all the amazing things she has done in that time, the wisdom she's accrued, and how all of that is supporting this current project. We created what I call a "proof pudding" list and she's beginning to interview herself (as though she were being interviewed by the Times) to practice articulating her project, how she got unstuck (this allows her to workshop ways she might actually break through in this chapter), and to send subtle signals to her unconscious that she's got this. We complemented this work with some loving-kindness practice. 

These are just a few of the writers I've been working with recently - I could share so many more examples of all the unique ways writers and I roll up our sleeves to look at their individual concerns. This kind of 1:1 support is so essential for writers. Remember, we are an apprenticeship craft. And writing is FAR more collaborative than most people realize.


This is the kind of game-changing work that's worth investing in. In these calls, we look at your shadows, we dig into the tough stuff, we don't make excuses. We get concrete about solutions, about reality vs expectations. We seek to understand what parts of you are scared, holding back, protecting you from failure. We also get buzzy and generative and play jazz with your ideas and hopes and projects.


This is the closest thing to writer therapy I can think of. These calls aren't only about your writing or your career: they're about building a healthy life as a creative in this world. From relationships, to community, to personal spiritual practice, to lifestyles that support your mental health and creativity. 


If this sounds like something you need this fall....you know where to find me!

For those of you who are committed to getting a lot of writing done in this season, I thought it'd be fun to share Ursula Le Guin's writing schedule. Note that she has three hours for preparing and eating dinner and that she gets silly after hours!


Making time to care for yourself, spend time with your loved ones, and "be very stupid" is just as important as getting that writing in.


I also like that she thinks in bed for a solid 45 minutes. That's a cool process! And that she eats lots of breakfast and spends two hours on reading and music. Obviously there is no childcare here or day job, but it's a joy to see how full she allowed her life to be, isn't it? 

Here’s to joy and breakthroughs and many, many words!

Download Your Get Clear 2024 Workbook

It's here!!!
 

I had so much fun re-working the workbook for 2024. There's a little something for everyone and I hope this helps you as you prepare for the New Year. Inside you'll find:

• A brand new tarot spread for the tarot card for 2024: STRENGTH

• Juicy questions to excavate your lessons from 2023

• Word-of-the year explorations to home in how you want to show up for 2024

• Additional resources and support 

I went with a cosmic theme for 2024 because I’m hoping you’ll be able to connect to our collective Source of creative power as you make magic with your words this new year. As always, my hope is that the Get Clear workbook will be a space you can return to as often as you like, a sanctuary for clarity, realignment, and rejuvenation. I recommend printing this out, getting some solitude, grabbing your favorite pens, and having at it. A fun soundtrack and cuppa wouldn't hurt, either.

One of the things I appreciate about journaling workbooks like these is that we get to indulge our obsession with words. For me, a single word or phrase can unlock tremendous insight. Over the years, I've gone from hardcore journaling or Morning Pages to more playful explorations: writing haikus, tarot journaling, choosing a cluster of words to work with or finding a single phrase that feels powerful and motivating that I can repeat to myself like a mantra. Just like last year, I've got a brand new 2024 tarot spread for you included in this year's workbook that focuses on the the Strength card. According to tarot experts, this is the card for 2024 and I’m here for it. I am strong is a phrase I use often as I work with chronic pain.

As usual, there's a NEW cache of inspirational quotes that you can use as jumping-off points for all kinds of exploratory writing. We'll also be looking at what your guiding word for 2024 might be, and the intention you have behind how you want to show up each day in and out of the writer's seat by revisiting (or trying for the first time) the Be/Do/Feel/Have Formula - my go-to for instant clarity and empowerment!

I’ve linked to some supportive mindfulness and meditation resources for you, as well. For me, I find that the answers I seek are in the silence. Turns out self-compassion is there, too. Meditation helps me connect to our collective unconscious and my own creativity and deepest needs. It turns down the volume on the world’s noise. It’s where the good stories live.

I hope that 2024 is a year of STRENGTH, connection with Source (or your word for the universe), and a deep send of self-acceptance and kindness amidst all the ups and downs of the writing life. I hope you find clarity here, as well as motivation and inspiration. It’s a painful time in the world and our creativity, curiosity, and compassion for ourselves and others is needed now more than ever. May you be happy, healthy, safe, and inspired.

With love,

Self-Compassion For Writers

“Learning to embrace yourself and your imperfections gives you the resilience needed to thrive.

”

— Kristin Neff, PhD & Christopher Germer, PhD, The Mindful Self-Compassion Workbook

---

In my recent post about how I didn’t write in 2023, I got into some of the reasons that the words weren’t coming. I could say I was surprised by the amount of emails I received saying THANK YOU FOR SAYING THIS ME TOO I FEEL SO GUILTY, but I wasn’t. Truth is, writers are damn tough on themselves and, when we don’t write, we often give in to shame and allow our inner critics to run the show. It’s our fault, we think, if we can’t achieve our goals - look at how we prioritize everything but writing! If we were truly serious about our craft, we would (fill in the blank). We call ourselves names, break promises we’ve made to our writing and feel even worse. It’s a downward spiral. Don’t even get me started on the self-comparison, that pang of hurt when a friend or a writer we admire writes something great, achieves something, has a shiny new book on the shelves.

In all my work with mindfulness, meditation, self-care, and therapy I have found nothing to be as supportive to my mental health and writing as self-compassion.

We Americans have a tough year coming up - presidential election year. The world is filled with war and terror and horrors unimaginable (even for those of us with top-notch imaginations). We have a new year upon us and the tendency to push ourselves, to set expectations high, to fall into the old patterns of letting ourselves down…it’s all on the horizon.

But what if we could meet our challenges, our hopes, our suffering in a way that embraces all of it and leaves us stronger, more resilient, more clear and healthy, and inspired?

The data on self-compassion practices is clear: this approach works.


As many of you know, I'm in a clinical social work master's program and my focus is on the mental health of creatives, including pursuing a specialization in Bipolar disorder, which many in our community must navigate. I did an intensive research project this year which is developing into a proper study I hope to publish in the next few years after I conduct clinical trials: What I'm looking at is the underlying cause of depression and anxiety in creatives and what the best intervention might be. 


So far, I've discovered that rumination - that tendency we have to dwell on disturbing events - is the culprit. We're not depressed BECAUSE of our creativity, but because of the process in which we engage in creating meaningful work. We are also uniquely susceptible to the inner critic and public criticism. 


Mindful Self-Compassion, a program designed by psychologists Kristin Neff, PhD and Christopher Germer, PhD, is a promising intervention for creative dysregulation and distress. I also did research on its use as an intervention in high performing individuals, such as NCAA athletes, and the intervention supported less performance anxiety, better perception of performance, and less distress over mistakes. As a result of this, I've given a lot of thought about how I might use the breadth and depth of my training and experience with self-compassion to support the unique needs of writers, both in and out of the writer's seat. (We did some of this in this fall's Cozy Mini Writing Retreat, to great success). 

We’ll be doing more self-compassion at the winter Mini Cozy Writing Retreat and I hope you’ll join me then!

It has been such a pleasure to write to you all throughout this year. I take such joy in sending you these missives, in writing them, in growing alongside all of you as we walk the writer's path. 

May you be happy, healthy, safe, and inspired now and in 2024!

Why I Didn't Write This Year

“You are not a troubled guest on this earth,
you are not an accident amidst other accidents”

— David Whyte

Re: My love of naps. Had to share my new mat! 🧡

Many of you know how I talk about writing seasons: there are times when the words are available, and times where they are not. 


I have not written for most of this past year. 


I dabbled in a few projects and, of course, have written to all of you. But I just didn't want to write. When I tried, I felt...bored. Not stuck. Just...actually bored, which has literally never happened in my life with writing, except for overly ruminative journaling. The spark had gone and I knew enough not to push it. To let life take its course, to trust that it would come back around. This is what I teach my writers: you need to fill the well, to be open and curious, to pursue what lights you up. Sometimes what lights you up isn't your writing, and that's okay.


I wasn't scared about it. 


Confused, yes. Weirded out, sure. Sad: absolutely. Writing has been my stalwart companion lo these many years. Life was clearly pulling me in another direction, not unrelated--becoming a therapist for creatives--but a bummer nonetheless. After nine books and decades of writing practice, though, I had to allow my creativity to find its expression elsewhere (I had a brief love affair with Zentangles and embroidery) and to keep pursuing what filled me with a quiet and certain yes. 


A few months ago, I realized that a medication I'd been taking for the past few years was the culprit. It made it so that I couldn't feel things as strongly as I once did. I didn't realize that this was what was causing me to not have an interest in fiction or the memoir I'm working on. In retrospect: duh. But as someone with chronic pain, I'm constantly juggling meds and therapies and tracking this and that. As soon as I began decreasing the dose, the words and ideas and - most important - the excitement and desire to write came back. This is tricky, of course, because I take that medication for a reason. 


But I don't think it was just the medication. I believe I was being forced by my body to take a break.


In fact, recognizing that the medication was messing with my flow happened around the same time I started taking naps and realized how much tension I was holding throughout my body and took practical steps with my cranial sacral therapist to address that. I'd come off of writing one of the hardest (and best) things I've ever put into the world ("put" is relative, as it's still on sub). I started grad school again. I bought my first place. I got diagnosed with two chronic illnesses, started speaking again to both my parents, got lay-ordained in Zen Buddhism, and completed a mindfulness facilitation certification at UCLA. My life was full without the writing. But I missed it. And I'm so glad it has returned to me. I think I have more to offer the page because of this time away from it. Absence does, indeed, make the heart grow fonder. 


I write in the margins now, and I find that this is a good place for me to be. 

“The Ecstasy of Enough” by Liz Huston

The margins keep me hungry for more. I'm in the process of becoming a clinical social worker and have found that I work best as a writer when I have a lot on my plate. Then the writing gets to be dessert, and never feels like it's simply fuel to get me through the day. I also think the margins work for me because, when writing isn't my whole life, I'm getting inspired in so many directions and then I want to write about all of it. If all I do is write, I often feel listless and uncertain. There is also a great deal of pressure to produce, even if I'm running on fumes. 


All I can say is that it was worth the wait. My body and mind are ready to write and I'm having so much fun. 


If life circumstances have caused you to be in this same place, I hope my experience helps you take heart. You might not have a medication messing with you or illness, but I'm guessing there is something - or several somethings - that necessarily have to take priority now. 


There is nothing wrong with you, and you are not a bad writer, if you are a writer who finds themselves in a non-writing season. 

I recently co-taught a meditation class with a mindfulness buddy and he shared the most magnificent poem with me, which we - of course! - had to share with our students. I've put it below for you and I hope it hits your heart in just the spot it hit mine...or wherever you need a good burst of light. We worked with this poem at my Mini Cozy Retreat in October and this was just before I had my a-ha! moment about my medication. That retreat was created as much for me as for the writers who attended, because I needed a cozy writing den for a few hours.


One thing we did was to go through the poem a few times - you can also read it out loud - and highlight any words or phrases that are really jumping out at you, then use those as journaling prompts. It's a pretty yummy way to spend a Saturday afternoon. 

What to Remember When Waking

by David Whyte
 

In that first hardly noticed moment in which you wake,
coming back to this life from the other
more secret, moveable and frighteningly honest world
where everything began,
there is a small opening into the new day
which closes the moment you begin your plans.
 

What you can plan is too small for you to live.
What you can live wholeheartedly will make plans enough
for the vitality hidden in your sleep.
 

To be human is to become visible
while carrying what is hidden as a gift to others.
To remember the other world in this world
is to live in your true inheritance.
 

You are not a troubled guest on this earth,
you are not an accident amidst other accidents
you were invited from another and greater night
than the one from which you have just emerged.
 

Now, looking through the slanting light of the morning window
toward the mountain presence of everything that can be
what urgency calls you to your one love?
What shape waits in the seed of you
to grow and spread its branches
against a future sky?
 

Is it waiting in the fertile sea?
In the trees beyond the house?
In the life you can imagine for yourself?
In the open and lovely white page on the writing desk?
 

from The House of Belonging, Many Rivers Press

To your open and lovely white page, whenever you decide to spend time with it...

Becoming A Writer Who Naps

Circe, fully conked out. 🧡

“That we are not much sicker and much madder than we are is due exclusively to that most blessed and blessing of all natural graces, sleep.

”

— Aldous Huxley

I take naps now.


At first, these were quick, furtive, guilty moments stolen from the machinery of the day. Then they became necessary way stations as I traveled through the busyness of my waking hours. Finally, my naps evolved into acts of empowerment, downright feminist, where I reclaimed my life every afternoon - snatched it out of the grasp of email and texts and deadlines and requests. Instead of being another demand on my time, my naps have become a sanctuary I retreat to when my body says enough. 


I could share all the health benefits of napping, but what I want to talk about instead is the utter sweetness of laying yourself down to rest. Of pulling the blanket over your body, of settling in. My naps are when I am kindest to myself. They are such a luxury, such a wholesome part of my day. I don't pressure myself to sleep. Instead, I just enjoy experiencing the body at rest. My kitty will curl up beside me. My breath will deepen. The pace and stress of the day goes on mute. And then: I sleep. 


My naps are an act of self-love. No surprise: the more I nap, the more I make time for my writing. 


It's weird, but I think it's because I'm signaling to my body, heart, and spirit that there are more important things than the to-do list and day jobs and the many concerns of our lives: laundry and returning a call and setting up or cancelling an appointment. And this has a ripple effect on my habit energy: All the errands I thought I "had" to do that day are put into perspective after my nap: I can suddenly see how they can wait, and how good it would feel to write instead. 


In laying my head down and choosing myself over the busyness thrust on me by society, I end up choosing my writing, too. 


It's a symbiotic relationship: self-care and writing go hand-in-hand. 


I know that napping is a privilege. There are so many people, many of you reading this, who literally do not have the time because of the intense demands life has placed upon you. My hope is that, if this is the case for you, you are in a temporary, impermanent season and that you have many restoring naps in your future. 


I also know that many of you are like me: raised in a culture that sees slowing down in any way as laziness, as a missed opportunity, as fundamentally unsafe because slowing down at all is the first step toward ending up unhoused. I see and hear you. I am you. It is so hard to speak to those parts of ourselves and let them know that rest is a basic right and a gift. It's a GOOD thing. 


It's also hard not to twist it around and make the argument that rest will make you more productive. Whether or not that's true, that's missing the point entirely: we are not productivity machines.


This is the cycle of capitalism: this system makes you want things you don't need and you must have money to get those things and you must work, and work a lot, to buy those things and then you need to keep working because you bought the things and now you will lose them if you don't stop. It is a vicious, truly hateful cycle. It steals our lives, snatches away our writing time, makes it impossible to be present for all the beauty and wonder life has to offer. 


We are not here on this planet to be productive or to consume. We are here to be creatively engaged with existence. And we cannot do that when we are burned out. 


As is often the case, my dear friend, the writer Camille DeAngelis, just wrote a post on the de-optimization of her life and I loved it. Less hustle! Less bustle! WE ARE NOT ROBOTS!!! I so appreciated seeing the ways her life transformed through the very revolutionary act of de-optimization. There are some good practical tips in there, too. 
 

Tricia Hersey, aka The Nap Bishop, at the Nap Ministry is doing the Lord's work, as my Lutheran grandma would say. Her instagram is one of the few places on that platform that I'm okay checking in on from time to time. While her work is focused on encouraging Black women to rest, there is much in her generous approach to rest that is universally applicable, but especially to women in general. 


I'm seeing so clearly the link between my shame around napping and capitalist brain washing. I'm also seeing how capitalism doesn't want me to create. It wants me to consume. And I can't consume if I'm resting. 


This poisonous burden of unwarranted urgency (buy now!) and need for power (always be competing!) and obsession with progress (which often strips away our connection to the earth and flow and peace) are hurting us as creatives. 


It's time to stop the noise. To rest in silence. To trust the body. 

I write this to all of you on the biggest shopping holiday of the year here in the States - Black Friday, which is not a day anymore but a whole season of being bombarded with emails and sales and a fabricated sense of urgency bordering on hysteria. If you have a scarcity devil, they will be highly activated right now. American / Western socialization demands that you go out and take advantage of these deals. Why pay more later when you can pay less now? Not enough in the bank to take advantage of these stupendous deals? That's what credit cards are for! 


Capitalist culture hurts our creativity. 


There's an amazing exercise in the Zen book The Engaged Spiritual Life that uses our craving and attachment to things and sales and sparkle as an opportunity to get to know our relationship to wanting shit: to see how our body and minds react to being in a space where we're asked to consume. To notice what deep wounds get poked when we tell ourselves we shouldn't or can't buy something.


Below I offer this rich practice that is unlike anything I've heard of and might just transform your relationship to rest, productivity, and consumption. 


Step One: What you do is: you go to a store that really activates your desire to buy. A place where you might lack self-control, engage in lots of anxious justification. A place that causes you to suffer because you either want things you can't have or buy things you know you don't need. For me, that's a place like Marshall's or Home Goods, a place where there are deals on everything and you never know what amazing thing you're going to see that you have to have. That'd you be bananas NOT to buy at that price. Screw the budget, screw the twingy feeling in your chest. Never mind that you're breaking promises to yourself - you absolutely NEED this thing. Sound familiar?


Step Two: You set a timer and you walk around the store for 30 minutes. You are not here to buy anything, You will not buy anything. Your job is to walk around and simply notice how your body and mind reacts. Get to know your scarcity devil. Get to know those parts of you that get activated by being told that can't have something. Notice your breathing, your thoughts. Just be curious and open. What grabs your attention? What memories or patterns arise?


Step Three: Leave the store. You might practice a bit of lovingkindess afterwards (I have some recordings on the subscriber portal and on my Insight Timer page). You might journal a bit about what came up for you. Share with a friend or your therapist. Process in whatever way feels good to you and see what shifts are up for grabs. 


An exercise like this can be so powerful for us as creatives. First, we're getting into the nitty gritty of the interior landscape and our characters are most resonant when we can do that for them, too. But we're also identifying something that steals time from our writing and confronting it.


How many hours a week, a month, a year do you lose of your writing time because you are buying things, thinking about buying things, writing lists about buying things, returning things, traveling to buying things, having to work more because you buy so many things...



What has our consumerist culture stolen from your creativity? 

The Napping House by Audrey Wood

Disclosure: As a writing coach, I am inevitably part of capitalism. Of course I want to continue offering 1:1 Breakthrough calls and my on-demand courses and other workshops. There is nothing wrong with fair energetic exchanges for things that will support and nourish and inspire you. We all buy things we need and want. What I'm talking about here is turning our attention to why we buy what we do, what is motivating it, and the ripple effect those purchases have on our creativity. If you find you're in a real bind with how your lifestyle and livelihood are interacting with your creativity, and you want support working through that, you know where to find me. 

As you move into the holiday season, I wish you many naps, much rest and ease, and a sweet settling in to winter's request that we burrow and stay warm and allow the season to do its good work of healing and recovery after a hard year of labor and reaping all that we sowed. 

To you and your pillow-

Keep Swimming, Writer

“Remember you love writing. It wouldn’t be worth it if you didn’t. If the love fades, do what you need to do and get back to it. ”

— A.L. Kennedy

😂 This was a post I wrote way back in August…and am only just now posting because….whelp….I started my second master’s degree. At any rate, here it is!

.

.

.

.

We all deal with rejection and uncertainty in different ways. My book has been on sub since Valentine's Day and this is how I'm dealing with it (see photo above). I haven't had anything resembling faith in publishing since I got my first book deal, but I've never been on sub this long, and certainly not for a book I know is the best I've written. We've talked about liminal spaces before, and this is one I'm still discovering how best to navigate. 


I had a friend tell me I was dealing with the ups and downs of this sub (got a film agent! really famous people reading the book! no one wanting a book about war right now!) with "remarkable grace." Meditation and mindfulness help me have a felt sense of impermanence that is healthy and generative for prioritizing what matters in life, but it's still hard. I know the work I continue to do with not putting my worth in the work and being in relationship with my inner critic and cultivating self-compassion is essential. All of this has allowed me to stop being that girl forever waiting on the train platform for a ride that may never come. Life is so short. I'm seeing that more and more with sick friends and family members, with everything happening in the world. I simply don't have time to give any more fucks about this business than I already have.


Does that mean I'm giving up? No way! But it does mean I have a life outside of writing now, and that I encourage my students and writers I work with to get lives, too. Actual hobbies. No guilt when you want to garden instead of locking yourself in a dark room to write. Knowing the work will be there when you are ready.


We can live lives that inspire us to write, that allow us to have joy in putting pen to paper, a love for this calling that is outside of performance or expectations or business. That's not giving up. It's putting your attention on what matters - you, the work, your relationship to the world - and rising above the fray of publishing. 


And, what do you know? This whole loving your writing and not letting publishing be the thief of your joy is a strategy that actually helps you realize your goals...

When I heard the news that one of my writers has just won the Los Angeles Book Prize for their incredible novel about Czech youth resistance, it's hard to lose faith in words and in the long game of never giving up and telling the stories your heart needs to tell, trends and publishers and numbers be damned. 



Here's Lyn's testimony from back when we worked together several years ago:
 

I came to Heather because I needed to get past a traumatic experience and reboot my career. Heather helped me identify what was most important to me in terms of my writing and how to let go of misconceptions that were holding me back.
 

As a result, I have considered avenues that I had dismissed earlier. I’ve learned to own my values and my words, take control of my process and not cede the direction of my career to others.


As a neurodiverse author, Lyn has had to overcome so many challenges in publishing, not to mention the lack of popularity of historical YA! I remember looking at early pages of this book when she came to a revision retreat I created at Highlights Foundation several years ago....and now here we are. 


If that isn't reminder enough that we just need to keep loving the work and doing the work and not getting bogged down by the business, I don't know what is.


Some icing on the inspiration cake: one of the writers that I talked about a few months ago in this post, Deborah Crossland, was on Good Morning America talking about her new book! What?! Deb came to me during a time of major transition and she counts Writing Bingeable Characters as one of the things that has helped her most with her novel (ahem), which came out this week. You can follow her here to catch her spot on Friday.

Me, swimming in the Adriatic…

Earlier this summer, I took a trip to Croatia and I DID NOT BRING MY LAPTOP. People, this is huge. I have never had the courage to do that, not since I've been serious about my writing. I brought a journal and pens and tiles for Zentangles and sashiko embroidery. I had awesome books to read (don't even get me started on Elizabeth Gilbert trying to censor all writers everywhere who want to write a book setting in a certain country). Most important: I had sunscreen and my bathing suit.

Here's to us all doing right by the miracle of being alive in this messy, beautiful, maddening world...and then writing about it, when we feel like it…

Daily Writing Devotionals

“Remember you love writing. It wouldn’t be worth it if you didn’t. If the love fades, do what you need to do and get back to it. ”

— A.L. Kennedy

One of the things that's supporting me falling back in love with my writing practice are what I've taken to calling "writing devotionals."


If you grew up Christian, you might remember those little prayer books that you could get at church, or the more substantial ones you could purchase in the Christian section of the bookstore. My Gram still has one that she reads every morning, not long after she wakes up. She keeps it in the bathroom, naturally. A good writer friend lamented the fact that Christians seem to have cornered the market on this concept of the devotional and we both resolved to have ones that suited our current needs. We have them in other traditions, too, but they don't seem to be as part of the culture. 

Devotionals are great. They're meant to be read in the morning as a way to center your day around what matters most to you. They're a good way to set an intention, keep yourself honest, and not fall into the hustle-bustle of this mad world before you've even rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. 

They're short. Some are just a paragraph. It's not meant to take forever and, in fact, the longer it is, the less likely you'll be able to keep up the practice. 

Summer is such a tough time for writers. It's a really extroverted, outdoors time, which isn't so conducive to writing. Lots of socializing, trips, upending of routines, kids or spouses home, visitors. The push-pull writers feel in this season can be so painful. You want to stay committed to your practice, but you also want to be with your dear ones and enjoy the sunlight. 


Permission not to write this summer. 


Permission to write whatever you want. 


Permission to daydream.


Permission to read all the books you want, not the ones you "should." 


Permission to let this season of your life be what it needs to be. 


Permission to rest, laugh, play, frolic, and otherwise enjoy your existence. 


Permission to quit. 


Permission to recommit. 


Permission to be kind to yourself. 


To that end, I've compiled a list of writer devotionals that are perfect for summer, when it's tough to get into the writer's seat but you want to remain in relationship with your words, get a little inspiration, some of that writer glow. Most have short chapters or are a single page, perfect for a cool dip into familiar and loved waters. May these be of benefit!


(For those of you who still want to make some time for the writer's seat, click below to get my free 31 Days of Writing Workbook for some summer fun.)

If you only get one book, this is the one!!! This a little-known gem that you will turn back to again and again. Mindfulness and writing in one place. Very short snippets of thoughts on writing and paying attention, good prompts if you want them, two women in conversation about the good stuff. This is something I'm forever passing along to any writer who let me evangelize to them about mindfulness. So, like, every writer. 

I often recommend this to my writers, though this is a new version of the original book, which mostly had men. Short and snappy, each profile is sure to give you a little inspiration for your own daily rituals around creative work. 

This is such a treasure. The podcast is phenomenal too, if you, like me, enjoy having Irish men read you beautiful poems and then tell you why they're such good pieces of writing. You can read a poem, then his short thoughts on it. Lovely!

Oh, how I love this book. I got it for Christmas from my husband because he knows how much I love Sophie Blackall. I've been sending this to dear ones since. It just makes me happy. And I re-connect to my own artist's curiosity and love of simple beauty and joys. It also make me want to write! I think because of her great attention to things we often overlook. 

Many of you know I ADORE this book and am always shoving it into people's hands. Each chapter is short, playful, and inspiring, with tons of fun word play that you can choose to do on your own. If you're looking for the occasional writing prompt, this is great fun, too. You don't have to be a poet! You just need to love words. 

I admit, I don't love this book, but it fits the bill in a pinch. Great quotes and fun things to think about. You can read each entry in about two minutes. Could be a good thing to just leave in the kitchen and read when the pasta water is boiling. 

I bought this for myself at an adorable little bookshop on the shore of Lake Superior in Grand Marais, MN and it has become a tonic at night. I love the images, the weird little stories, the dreamlike quality of it all. If you want something immersive and expansive, you'll love this. (Be sure not to accidentally buy the "silent" version, which is just the images and no words....I accidentally did that to a friend and was sad). 

---

Here's to us all doing right by the miracle of being alive in this messy, beautiful, maddening world...and then writing about it, when we feel like it…

Writing as Stewardship

“The ache for home lives in all of us. ”

— Maya Angelou

I write to you from the first home I have ever owned. The Zen Master and I bought a little condo in a historic building here in Saint Paul - the picture above is our reading nook, which is my favorite room in the place. You can't see it, but there's a gorgeous working fireplace and a window that overlooks our covered balcony, tree-lined street, and the fancy houses across from us. We've named one The Witch House because it looks like it came straight from the New Orleans Garden District on Halloween night. Delicious!


We've been moving in over the past few weeks. It's been a big change on so many levels, and Hale House has had a ripple effect on everything from my writing to my coaching to adjusting to being an "owner" after a lifetime of renting. (The condo is named after Nathan Hale, the revolutionary who famously bemoaned the fact he had but one life to give for his country, thus: Hale House). 


I have pretty complicated feelings about owning a house or land, especially on stolen native territory. In fact, years ago I bought a notebook to write down research about home ownership and the first quote in it was this one from D.H. Lawrence:


"It is a dragon that has devoured us all: these obscene scaly houses, this insatiable struggle and desire to possess to possess always and in spite of everything, this need to be an owner, less one be owned."

If that doesn't give you an indication of the inner conflict I've felt around owning, I don't know what will! It's not that I judged others for owning - I simply saw how much suffering it seemed to bring so many people. The agony of the broken boiler, the roof that needs fixing, the foreclosures, the ups and downs of the market. The needling desire to always be improving. Backsplash! We MUST have backsplash! All those HGTV shows gave me the wiggins - what would this look to people living in slums, to refugees, to the homeless vet on the corner?


And yet, I kept finding myself wanting that solidity of a place being MINE, the security of a life without landlord: even though I know all is impermanent, even though I know it's turtles all the way down. My vagabond ways became less fulfilling. Yes, there is much more world to see, but having a place to come home to that wraps around you like a soft blanket - that's pretty nice, too. It's hard to have both. 


There has always been this feeling of solidarity among those of us who rent, and so a part of me felt like a traitor, deciding to own. In the US, there is a real vibe of second-class citizenship if you don't own. Assumptions can often be made about renters. I always prided myself on not owning, on being divergent and a wee bit socialist. But I also worried others may think things about my bank account or my financial maturity or any number of silly things. Who cares?! But it's hard to be the square peg in the round hole all the time. Sometimes you want those edges softened a bit. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was another one biting the dust, that I'd been suckered in by the American Dream and capitalism and fear. 


Most of all, I was afraid of the home owning me, not the other way around. 


As artists, we answer a call to live a different life than others.


If we want to make good work, we have to be bad consumers - shopping less, writing more. We have to be middling housekeepers - yes, a clean house is nice, but so is finishing a chapter. We can't keep up with the Joneses because if we spend our whole weekends tinkering on our houses, we'll never get that book deal. 


On call after call with my writers, I'd hear how their home improvement or buying or selling was taking over their lives, eating up all their writing time, stressing them out financially (see: eating up their writing time). I was terrified of that happening to me. 


Since COVID, though, I have felt a need for deeper roots. During quarantine, we lived in a home we were renting and I kept worrying the couple would decide to move back in. We've had the same terrible landlord stories so many renters regale their friends with. We've put blood and sweat into being good stewards of the apartments and homes we've lived in, knowing it wasn't for keeps: a good practice in impermanence every time we've moved. I'm a bit sad wondering if the wild flowers I planted in our rented Victorian last year are going to bloom. And not a little annoyed by cheap landlord tricks surrounding security deposits. (I won't miss THAT). 

In Raynor Winn's memoir The Salt Path, she writes about the beautiful farm she and her husband owned in Wales, how it was taken away, their subsequent homelessness amidst his terminal diagnosis, and their solution: walking Britain's coastal path instead of enduring the misery of trying to get into a British estate or dealing with grudging friends who only wanted to offer a couch for a few days, tops. The walk revealed their fellow humans' profound distaste for the unhoused and gave Winn and her husband a deeper sense of what "home" really is--each other, of course. And yet: they still wanted a home. A place that was theirs. A true shelter from the storm of life. They could hold all of the complexity as they walked - the letting go, the clinging, the letting go, the letting go, the letting go: of what they had, of their fear, of their assumptions. 


This story worked on me more than I'd realized as I began to see how maybe it was okay to want to have something of your own, especially when you want EVERYONE to be able to have that, too. Housing equity. What a thought. She says:


"How can there be so few individuals who understand the need for people to have a space of their own?"


Here, she's speaking about how many owners tend to look down on the unhoused or renters, safe in the belief that they have earned their home, that it is their right and due, and - now that they have one - they must protect it at all costs. Keep out the riff-raff. Call the police if a Black man is walking up a driveway. To be a white person owning a home in the United States is a fraught affair when you've chosen to open your eyes to these things. And I echo Winn: Everyone needs a space of their own. Everyone deserves that. My guilt is useless, but my holy fury that we actually COULD house everyone and choose not to is very useful, indeed. 


The place we bought is a gorgeous unit in a 16-unit building that is over 100 years old and I love it. But I feel WEIRD about it, too. We only moved five minutes away from our rental, but instead of the diversity of my old neighborhood, I see lots of white people walking beautifully groomed dogs. There are many nice cars. On the day my dear friend, a person of color, came to see us last week, there were literally people dressed up in Gatsby-era costumes playing croquet - CROQUET! - on the green beside our building. It was like a bonus scene from Get Out. I felt ashamed. But they're a Zen priest and gently reminded me that it's okay to have a beautiful, safe refuge to retreat to where you fill your well so you can go out and do good work in the world. Gotta love Zen priests. 


So I took THAT weird feeling and mused on it a bit. What did it mean for me to live in a neighborhood like this? What did it say about me and my values? We were only able to get this place because of inter-generational wealth: my husband's parents gave us the down payment. What a beautiful thing to do - and what an example of why certain people are able to have stability and choice in this country, while so many are do not have the option to own a home or live in a good neighborhood (or go to college, or, or, or). 


Part of why we chose a condo over a home was so that it wouldn't own us, wouldn't take up all our time in maintenance, and because we wanted to live in community - to have our fate linked with others'. Here, people garden together, do little tasks around the space, help each other out. There is a real feeling of mutual aid, in large part because all of us own 1/16th of this building. The value of our space is tied to the value of each other space in the building, so we have to work together - meetings and check-ins and the like. It's hard, actually, to live in community, but down-sizing and not owning a whole big house when we're just two people and a cat felt like that aligned with our values. (Full transparency: I dream of buying a small cabin up North, so when I talk about down-sizing, this is very relative). 


We'd chosen this place for its beauty - because we're artists and it nourishes us and our work in undeniable ways. 


John Muir once said that "Everyone needs beauty as well as bread."


I quite agree with that. I've been reading about neuroarts - more on that soon, but it's basically the science of how art has healing properties - and it's gotten me thinking more and more about how VITAL it is to surround ourselves with beauty and nature for our well-being as writers and also for the work itself. Making our homes places of delight and wonder is part of that, too. In tending to this aspect of ourselves, we're becoming better stewards for our books. 


When you write a book and put it into the world, you no longer own it. In fact, you never did. You have only ever been the steward of your work. 


After a book is shared, it becomes something different for every person who opens it. All you can do is be a good steward when its yours alone. Then you have to let it go. You can't take it with you. Just like everything in your life, it is impermanent. You will lose it. Just like you will lose your life. It's the way of things. It's okay that this is the way of things. Without the tension of loss, we would be unable to appreciate whatever we have right now. 


Perhaps I came to a place where I could own a home because I've spent years loosening my grip on my work and career and focusing more on being a good steward to the work and the worker (me). 


I can't control the outcome: if it sells, who will read it, any of that. All I can control is how I show up for my writing. That's it. Someone will buy it - own the rights! - or they will not. 


Many people have lived in this home before me. And more will live here after me. I don't own it any more than I own my cat or the sky or the air I breathe. I am simply its steward. To believe otherwise would be to tell myself a story about immortality, about surety, about there being solid ground beneath my feet. If the years since the pandemic has taught us anything it's that the only things we can depend on are not material: love, hope, courage. 


I wanted to write this out for myself and all of you because I think that one of the biggest obstacles to being a good writer and to doing right by the miracle is believing that these things - houses, degrees, vacations, new shoes, whatever - will somehow eliminate the discomfort we feel in our human skins.


But being uncomfortable is good for art. I'm glad that, while I rest easy in this home, my comfort and delight here is a reminder that so many do not have this. I think about what it would feel like to have a Russian missile hit this home. I think about all the migrants on the border right now. I think about the refugees in Greece and all over the world. 


And this leads me to the quote at the top of this missive from Maya Angelou, about the ache of home living in all of us. 


Isn't that why we read, why we write? It's that ache for a safe landing, for a refuge, for a place where we belong. You can't buy or own it, but you can carry it with you and pass it along to the next person who needs shelter. 

---

For the Journalers

• What does the word "home" mean to you? Time yourself for two minutes and write words, images, and various snippets of thought that come to mind. 

• What book is a home to you?

• What piece of your own writing feels like home?

• How does owning - a home, material things - support or hinder your creative spirit, your writing practice, your inner expansiveness

• What would a mindset of "stewardship" over "ownership" look like for you, in both writing and life?

• What are you uncomfortable about right now with this whole topic? Why? 

For Circe, home will always be where the warm laundry is, a cozy lap to sit in, her favorite blanket. She's been a champ adjusting to the new space and the place didn't feel like home until she herself was in it. It's nice to know there are creatures on this planet who make their home based on simply being with their people and having a few cozy spots to curl up in safely and a good perch from which to observe the world. 

Wherever you are, I hope you feel a sense of home in and out of the writer's seat -

Liminal Seasons and the Power of the Dead Spot

“We have to allow ourselves to be drawn out of business as usual and remain patiently on the threshold (limen, in Latin) where we are betwixt and between the familiar and the completely unknown. There alone is our old world left behind while we are not yet sure of the new existence. That’s a good space where genuine newness can begin. Get there often and stay there as long as you can by whatever means possible. ”

— Richard Rohr

You know when you hit on something - a word that resonates, in this case - and then you see it bloody everywhere? And it feels like the universe is stalking you? And then you say that word to other people and it's like you handed them a puzzle piece they didn't even know they'd lost? 

For me and the writers I work with, right now that word is LIMINAL. 

It's a perfect word for this spring equinox season, an in-between period where things have been planted, but - at least here in Minnesota - not yet blooming. 


Betwixt and between. 

Suspended.

Chrysalis. 

Liminal. 


Also known as....The Dead Spot. (More on that in a moment). 

 

I love this definition of liminal by Heather Plett in her fabulous book, The Art of Holding Space:

"Liminal space, then, is a period in which something - social hierarchy, culture, belief, tradition, identity, etc. - has been dissolved and a new thing has not yet emerged to take its place...It's that period of uncertainty, ambiguity, restlessness, fear, discomfort, and anguish. It's the space between, when a trapeze artist lets go of one bar and doesn't yet know whether they will be able to catch the other bar.

As I probe into the nuances of this word, I'm discovering the ways in which liminality is pregnant with energy and power and gestational force. It's a time of possibility even as it's a time of uncertainty. 


It creates a container to question and re-examine your life and your choices. It suspends the day-to-day habit energy that often acts as a coma through which we go through the motions of our hours. Whether what lies on the other side is the very worst news or something wonderful, that period of time before you know the outcome can offer up so much transformation...if you let it. 


I've also begun to notice how liminal seasons often overlap. Some liminal seasons can last decades, others only a few days - as long as it takes for that biopsy or acceptance letter to come back. This offers up the invitation to recognize what areas of your life might need a little more attention and tenderness simply because they are resting in a liminal zone. 



A few things I've noticed about my own liminal periods, whether it's being on sub or waiting for test results or being in between gigs, homes, or big decisions:
 

• A sort of hazy feeling. I can also be quite distracted. 

• I tend to feel a bit drained and tired, but in a way that I find myself suddenly allowing more rest and ease.

• I say NO more.

• It is much easier for my anxiety to be triggered, so I have to be careful of spaces where I may be prone to comparison. 

• I feel hesitant about making big decisions, yet also feel drawn to wild re-imagination of my my life.  

• I begin to re-think not just the area of my life that the liminality dwells in, but other aspects as well. Questions about health lead me to reconsider my bandwidth, my relationships, my priorities. 

• My emotions pendulate more. When a book is on sub or about to publish, I go from certainty and excitement to existential dread and despair, sometimes in a matter of minutes. (Mindfulness is very helpful here). 

• I feel a bit more tender in liminal times or spaces of my life. Because of this, I draw inward more and I find deeper and deeper comfort in the divine feminine, in my female lineage, in sacred solitude.

• Comfort is key. Warm drinks, lots of blankets, escapist books. 

THE DEAD SPOT

As soon as this word - liminal - began nipping at my heels, I happened to begin reading two books simultaneously that were all about liminality. I did not know this was going to happen! Nothing in their titles mentioned anything about liminality, but this is the kind of synchronicity that occurs when you stumble on something that Source wants you to pay attention to. 


The first is the Heather Plett book I mentioned above. The second is Diane Eshin Rizzetto's Zen book, Waking Up to What You Do. It's in this book that I learned one of the most helpful concepts I've come across to explore liminality: what trapeze artists call "The Dead Spot." 


Rizzetto explores an interview in the San Francisco Chronicle with trapeze artists to look at the gifts of liminality. The trapeze artists share that the dead spot occurs "...at the end of the swing...when the swinging bar stops moving in one direction and starts moving in the other. Like when you're highest on a playground swing. The whole idea is to use that change of momentum to create the trick." In fact, she says, it's in that precise moment that the next trick is born.


"Timing," one of the artists interviewed said, "is all...there will be change. The pendulum will literally swing the other way. You can't change that. You can only use it."


I love that last bit - you can't change the liminality, you can only use it. The momentum, the hope, the determination, your training. 


Rizzetto expands on this to suggest that the moment between letting go of the bar and reaching for the next one is also part of a dead spot (and Plett, given her definition of liminality above, says as much, too). It's a place of ultimate uncertainty - and unlimited potential. Rizzetto writes:


"We don't have to be trapeze artists to know that dead spot. Sooner or later, if we're lucky, we'll find ourselves awake, suspended between the bars. Of course it's the last place we want to be. But if approached with intelligence, the dead spot can be the key to understanding the reactionary behaviors spinning in the dream of self. We can learn how to work in that split second, when either there is no new bar for us to grasp or our usual favorites no longer work; we have the opportunity to know ourselves in a way that is open to whatever life brings our way...we meet the power and creativity to break away from our habitual thoughts, emotional matrix, body patterns, and energy that fuel and direct our reactions."


The Dead Spot is:


Suspended

Between

A key

Opportunity

Power

Creativity

Breaking Away


This is a radically different approach to the way we often approach liminal seasons. Usually it's all nail-biting and treading water and stress and worry. But there is another way. It's almost always useless to swim against the current, is it not?
 

Here are a few of my current dead spots. The name is ironic because they are already so life-giving, if I can simply look at them in an entirely new way:
 

• My book is on sub. This is the ultimate liminal place as a writer. You're in this weird shadowy land where you float through uncertainty, despair, elation, confusion, doubt, rage, frustration, desperation....You wonder if you should start a new project, but when you try to, it's very hard to concentrate. You have no control. You are on the threshold of a life where this book gets published, one where it doesn't get published, one where you revise it and make it something else so it can get published, one where you throw in the towel, one where you....choose your own adventure. 

• I have two new books I want to work on, but I've yet to start. Right now, they are perfect. Untouched. Pristine. Once I start putting words down, that will shift. Not vanish entirely, but I will see the gap between what's in my head and what's on the page. And so I am going to enjoy this space a little longer. The one of possibility, with no baggage. But I can't stay in this dead spot forever. And I hope I have a good trick up my sleeve when I let go. 

• The Zen Master and I just bought our first place! There's the fear and thrill of buying a place to really put down roots in. The sadness of leaving a well-loved home with fabulous neighbors. We know our closing date, but it's three weeks away. Our landlord hasn't found someone to cover our lease, so we aren't sure when to start packing. Liminal. Betwixt and between. For now, I will dream of paint samples and the green velvet couch the owner threw in. 

• I have been in a liminal place with a chronic condition for twenty years. I finally just got the results of an exploratory surgery: endometriosis. But now I have decisions to make. This is the Heather before hormone therapy. Or before a hysterectomy. Or before deciding to forge a whole new path. (My loves, no advice please. Goodwill, though, is very much appreciated). For all of you battling chronic pain, I know a big part of you is always in liminality. And each dead spot feels harder than the last. I keep thinking about harnessing the power inherent in letting go to give me the strength to advocate for myself and others. 

     
This list would be very long indeed if I shared the liminal spaces I am witness to with friends and loved ones. With the writers I work with, who leave me messages filled with excitement over a big-time editor reading their book to despair over yet another glowing rejection. By now, though, I think you have the gist. 


Grab your journal and write down your current dead spots. Where is there liminality in your life? What are the larger social dead spots that are directly affecting you? How do these spaces make you feel? How do you hold space for them? Is there more you could do to be kind to yourself and take advantage of the possibility of transformation during this time? Are you noticing thoughts that wonder if you should burn it all down or do something radically different or quit something or start something? What would it feel like to listen to them?


When you're done with that, I recommend doing this Liminal Dream Space meditation by my favorite teacher on Insight Timer, Jennifer Piercy. It's a delicious exploration. 

 

Wherever this missive finds you, and whatever dead spot you may be experiencing, just know that, as counter-intuitive as it may seem, it is well worth allowing yourself to lean in. Your habit energy may encourage self-judgement, or compartmentalizing, or powering through: but all seeds need water and sunshine and time to grow. And so do you. 


Yours in doing right by the miracle, 

Client Spotlight: Two Regular Broads Who Didn't Give Up

“Every story we read finds a place within our psyches and helps us become the person we are.”

— Deborah Crossland

Hello camerados near and far!


I write to you on my porch. It's is over 80 degrees. I am wearing shorts and have decided maybe there is a god after all. Who else had a rough, never-ending winter???


This post is a shout-out to two incredible women that I've been working with over the past several years as a coach and colleague. I hope it acts as a source of inspiration for those of you who keep thinking to yourself, Will it ever happen for me?


I've been having all kinds of interesting conversations with the writers I work with lately, and my author buddies, and my agents. It's a weird time in publishing, no doubt about it. Don't even get me started on AI! If you feel like you need a break, I hear you. But I know some of you are out there slinging ink and forging ahead because you have a dream and a goal, dammit. 


The thing I'm most interested in working on with writers isn't getting published, but getting published or agented is a nice by-product of the work we do. I can't guarantee that. And no matter how good you are, you can't guarantee it, either. My goal is to use your writing and your writing practice as a springboard into fully embodying the most alive, connected, tapped-in version of you. And, if you're a writer, it's likely going to happen through writing. I don't know about any of you, but I'm a miserable wretch to all if I'm not writing. Whether or not it's published. I have to write or the world suffers. My cat and husband will both attest to this. 


Michelangelo said, "I saw the angel in the marble and I carved until I set him free."


I do that with my own books, sure, but I like to do that with writers, too. I like to see past the inner critic, the fear, the scarcity, the comparison...all the muck that gets in the way of our creativity and our purpose. I see that angel in the marble - you, beautiful writer. And so, together, we carve. We set you free. 


We trust that the blocks will yield through our careful attention to your inner landscape and the way your whole life intersects with your desire to tell stories. 


Frankly, I don't care all that much about publishing. I've never met a published author who is happy, who feels like it's enough to have at least one book out in the world. But I know how much it can mean, to see your name in lights, so to speak. The sense of accomplishment and personal authority is real. But I also want to live in a world where we as writers don't need anyone else to tell us we're good or worthy. Is there a way to believe it regardless of what happens? And is there a way to believe it while at the same time moving towards our goals? 


Below are two writers who did the work. The grueling, endless inner work of befriending their critic, allowing themselves grace, believing in their talent (and they have loads), and refusing to settle.


Both came to a place where their worth was intact regardless of whether or not they landed the agent or the book deal. And their good opinion of themselves was worth more than an editor or agent gracing them with a contract. 
 

The Six-Figure Book Deal

I can't tell you this writer's name because their deal isn't announced yet, but I can tell you that they are incredibly talented and that I had the great fortune to work with them for several years on a single book that is gorgeous and bingeable as hell. I read the first pages years ago and was IN. A voice for the ages. A world I wanted to hang out in forever. Writing that, if you broke it into pieces and drizzled chocolate over it, wouldn't be out of place in a Parisian candy shop. 


But the plot wasn't working. 


Fast-forward through loads of re-writes, years of hand-wringing, ping-ponging from joy (yes! character is fully realized!) to despair (that ending, tho). The emails and voice mails and texts and calls and track changes. The monumental effort of unlearning false stories about yourself.


The hard work of taking your inner critic to tea, splashing in a drop of whisky, and have a real come-to-Jesus meeting with them. 


The rejections. The fear that it might never happen. The almost-maybe-NO. The pandemic. The giving up. The returning. Landing that new, awesome agent with the book - a hail Mary round of submissions that hit someone's sweet spot. Going out on sub. Getting rejected. Nice rejections. Again, again, again. What if it's never going to--


And then, I get a voice message: The book, this beautiful book, sold at auction for six-figures. For ONE BOOK. That's how good it is. 


The week before this deal happened, though, we were on a call, playing out the possible scenarios. If they were offered a very small deal, with a small publisher, should they take it, even if their dream was go big or go home? We looked at all the possible ways things could go, how it felt in the body, how it matched up with all they've learned about themselves through writing this book, this book that is their teacher. 


I won't tell you what they decided about that, but, either way, my girl got the unicorn dream. 


It doesn't happen for everyone. It might not happen for you. But the badass, take-no-prisoners writer and human being you become when you allow yourself to dream, when you actually put in the work to be as good on the page as possible, and to do the hardest labor of all - knowing how to live and work with all your fears and manage to write in this dumpster-fire of a century....that's what it's about. For me, anyway. The book deal is the cherry on top. But all her effort, that beautiful book that she ended up with and was so proud of before the deal ever happened? That's the sundae. 

The Madeline Miller of YA

Deborah Crossland is a thousand times smarter than me and I want to take all her classes. Who gets a Phd in Mythology with an emphasis in depth psychology and then weaves myth into YA like Circe at her loom? THIS WOMAN.


I had the great honor of working with Deb as she was crafting her upcoming novel, The Quiet Part Out Loud. Oh the conversations we had about that book, and the way she took all my Writing Bingeable Characters advice to heart! A+ student in Character, this one. 


Before her super awesome agent picked her up, before her incredible book deal with S&S (and other exciting things I'm not allowed to mention) we did some dreaming about who she wanted to be as an author in the YA space. Imposter Syndrome is for real, especially for writers and perhaps even more so for scholars. So she got a double dose. 


I asked her, what if she were the Madeline Miller of YA? We're both obsessed (and if you aren't yet, get thee to a library because WHOA MAMA). It seemed like a no-brainer. A feminist doctor of mythology telling ancient stories in fresh new ways for young readers? 


I remember Deb lighting up - her voice was so excited and there was that aha! feeling. But then: wasn't that too audacious?


How could SHE be the Madeline Miller of YA? So that became our task: how to answer that question, and carve that dream out of stone and into reality. There was no set thing that would make her the MM of YA. It was about an orientation towards this identity and growing a sense of worthiness from a seedling to a full-fledged tree, dryads included. It was about all the little steps and the things that no one would ever recognize or know about. 


This week, I feel like she got there. It's one thing to write a book that is inspired by myth. Arguably, there are many who have tried. 


But Deb brought together her badass scholar self, her professor self, her writer self, and her YA self all together to write this article that just ran in Publisher's Weekly. 


It begins with her bio - you read this and tell me she isn't the Madeline Miller of YA:


Deborah Crossland has a PhD in mythological studies with an emphasis in depth psychology. She teaches English and mythology at San Joaquin County Delta College in Stockton, Calif. Her debut YA novel, The Quiet Part Out Loud, a contemporary retelling of the Orpheus and Eurydice myth with a feminist bent, is due out in June from Simon & Schuster. Here, Crossland reflects on why book bans hinder teens most of all by denying access to stories that reflect their shifting identities and the issues they face.


Am I bragging? HELL YES. This is what happens when you let yourself believe that you have something to say, that other people might want to hear it, too. This is what happens when you say the quiet part out loud. 

Read Deb’s article here. Click on the book to learn more!

Here are a couple ways to work with seeing your angel in the marble and carving until you set them free....


1. Write your fancy-ass bio. You can use Deb's as an example. Write the bio even if you have yet to achieve the things you want in that bio. Put that bio above your writing space. Then: baby steps. 


2. Give a fake interview to your favorite publication. This is a big exercise I give all my writers, especially when they're working to take up space. (One of my writers is currently a little intimidated by The Paris Review interviewing her, but she's working on it). You can talk about how you never thought it would happen, but then....Or talk about how you got unstuck on the book you're currently stuck on. Talk about your influences, how you overcame the haters, or your writing process. I have been giving fake interviews my whole life. It's pretty surreal and magical when they stop being fake. 


3. Do the Be/Do/Feel/Already Have exercise on the portal. All magic happens with intention. You gotta mean it. The great thing about this exercise is that you'll realize you already are and have everything you want. But you're always allowed to super-size it! (Not a subscriber? Here’s the link to my free newsletter, and you’ll get instant access).

Are you ready to roll up your sleeves?

This kind of work takes time. A creative season with me can be a good start. Or a manuscript critique if you think you're ready for that. And if that's not available to you, finding at least one true blue writing partner can make all the difference. It's not for nothing that both of these women have solid CPs and community. It does, indeed, take a village. 

Here's to you and your angels in the marble! 

The Objective Correlative Defined

“In a time of destruction, create something.”

— Maxine Hong Kingston

The Zen Master and I went to a special Friday night gathering at the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis to see the incredibly vivid work of Pacita Abad. They encouraged people to wear bright colors and patterns to reflect Pacita's work and, as a Capricorn, I had to follow this rule to a T. 😂


I got the idea to take these PJ's I inherited from a friend - can I just say....we KILLED IT with the art crowd. One woman came up to us and said: "First I saw the jacket. Then I saw the pants. And then I was amazed." Made my night!


I chose this picture because it is an objective correlative of my mood these days: happy, hopeful, ready to take risks. 


The objective correlative is the single most impactful literary device I share with writers who are looking to up their writing game. 


What the heck is an "objective correlative"?


This is a term I learned while getting my MFA, where lecturers traced the term's popularization to T.S. Eliot's essay "Hamlet and his Problems" (1919). Side note: Hamlet had A LOT of problems. For the nerds: according to literary detectives, the term appeared to have first been used by Washington Allston, an American painter and poet, in 1840. 


Here's Eliot's definition, which requires some mental gymnastics:


“…a set of objects, a situation, a chain of events which shall be the formula of that Particular emotion; such that when the external facts, which must terminate in sensory experience, are given, the emotion is immediately evoked” (qtd. in J. A. Cuddon’s Dictionary of Literary Terms, page 647).


Translation: The objective correlative is the ultimate in metaphor, using something outside of your characters as symbolism that deepens the emotional resonance in your story and creates vivid, memorable moments.


This device allows you to use one object or weather system or place to convey what would have required pages and pages of on-the-nose writing. 


In other words, the objective correlative is something in the world of your story - the weather, an object, anything that is not internal or action-oriented - that does the heavy lifting of conveying the emotional state of your protagonist, your theme, the world of your book, and so much more. 


My most classic example is when writers use the weather to convey the inner state of their protagonist, whether it is reflecting it or used in juxtaposition. Think about how stormy and dark the weather and palette of the later Harry Potter movies are in comparison to the bright, sunny vibes in the earlier films. As Harry confronts his demons and prepares for his final showdown with Voldemort, the environment itself reflects his inner turmoil far better than people turning to the camera and saying, "Harry is depressed and traumatized and very confused about his role in saving the world." 


The objective correlative is the ace up your sleeve in show, don't tell. 


Now you have an actual STRATEGY to do that. For those of you who don't find showing vs. telling intuitive, then the objective correlative is your new best friend. 


Back to the Zen Master and I rocking those PJ's: 


Those outfits described our emotional state: two people walk into a place looking like that, you think they're happy, goofy, a unit that is playful and down for whatever. Now imagine if we'd both been dressed entirely in old, stained sweats with holes in a party filled with bright colors and creative fashion. What do you think those clothes would symbolize about the couple? The state of their marriage, finances, mental health?


In my novel Bad Romance, the protagonist, Grace, wears pink combat boots. They're an objective correlative for the fight of her life that she finds herself in when her relationship with her boyfriend turns abusive and she encounters emotional abuse at home. But they're pink because she's gonna put up her dukes with her creativity and dreams. Those boots tell us she's not going down easy, and she's going to do things her way. 


In contrast, the protagonist of The Iron Widow, Zeitan, a fierce pilot in a world where girls are sacrificed in battle, has bound feet - an agonizing practice performed in ancient China and thought to make girls more attractive to potential suitors. She longs to be free of the agonizing pain and knows she will never have the freedom available to some of the other female pilots, whose feet are not bound. This is an objective correlative for female subjugation and violence against women. (This YA novel was described to me as a "feminist scream of rage" and WHOA is it ever). 

A Few Famous Examples of the Objective Correlative 

• The above cover of Rebecca shows one of the many objective correlatives in that novel, which is filled with them. I often assign this book to my writers who are oriented toward setting so that they can learn from a master how to use setting to convey the emotional state of the protagonist. The sea, the weather, Manderlay, and so many objects that belonged to Rebecca all convey the delicious gothic horror of this novel. 

• Rosebud in Citizen Kane

• The green light at the end of the dock in Gatsby 

• The bagel in Everything, Everywhere, All at Once

• Katniss's pin in The Hunger Games

Below is an example from Mexican Gothic. Notice how the setting is giving us so much information about this house and its inhabitants without saying, "This house is creepy AF, run away, girl, RUN!" 

I especially dig the comparison to a scene of a crime. This novel is twisty and filled with suspense; this specific choice of words adds to the layers of foreboding and sinister tone. How would this read differently if the nymphs weren't "silent guardians" but cheerful greeters? What if the oval on the wall was compared to a portal, rather than the fingerprint of a crime scene? What if the crystal wasn't cloudy with age but was a nod to the gilded age and reminded Noemí of champagne glasses?


Do you see how the specificity here changes everything? 

Exercises for Working with the Objective Correlative 

At the back of John Gardner's The Art of Fiction there are a few stellar exercises that I'll share below. If you haven't yet downloaded your free 31 Days of Writing workbook from the subscriber portal, head on over there. You'll want to look at the following exercises to work with the objective correlative: Day 4, 5, and 6. 

If you’re not yet a subscriber for my free newsletter, click the button below and you’ll get instant access.

Exercises from The Art of Fiction


4a: Describe a landscape as seen by an old woman whose disgusting and detestable old husband has just died. Do not mention the husband or death. 


4b: Describe a lake as seen by a young man who has just committed murder. Do not mention the murder. 


4c: Describe a landscape as seen by a bird. Do not mention the bird. 


4d: Describe a building as seen by a man whose son has just been killed in a war. Do not mention the son, war, death, or the old man doing the seeing; then describe the same building, in the same weather and at the same time of day, as seen by a happy lover. Do not mention love or the loved one. 


You know what to do: grab a notebook and start working on some of these exercises! They are so much fun and you'll really begin to see the results in terms of show, don't tell, and a rich, vivid quality to your words. 



Yours in doing right by the miracle, 

My Octopus Writing Teacher

“
The soul should always stand ajar. ”

— Emily Dickinson

I suppose I must be one of the last people to see My Octopus Teacher, the Academy Award-winning documentary about the chance encounter and emerging relationship between a diver on the edge of himself and an octopus living her life in the Great African Seaforest. 


And I'll tell you why: octopi give me the wiggins. I could not conceive of how anyone could feel sweet regard for those squishy, creepy sea weirdos. I love the sea and come from a long line of sea folk, from Greece to Ireland to Wales to Texas. More recently, I've discovered I love to swim. Many of you who read my piece last year have emailed to say that it inspired you to jump into pools, too. Huzzah! Maybe we'll need to have a Writers Who Swim retreat one of these days. But sea creatures? Unless they are whales or sea otters or something like that, something not fishy (or sharks...shudder), then I simply could not be bothered. In fact, I experienced real aversion each time I saw an octopus. 


One thing writing that post about swimming brought into relief for me (it's aptly titled "On Surprising Myself") is that a strange trend has started appearing in my life: If I say I would never, not if you paid me, do something....the universe calls my bluff.


Swimming, yes, but also living in Minnesota again, and all kinds of things - including, as it turns out, falling head over heels for an octopus. I really must watch what I say. 


I've been feeling rather tender lately for various reasons, so I expect the Netflix algorithm caught me at just the right moment. The trailer came on - I'd never seen it before, but vaguely remember characters in a Helen Hoang book bonding over this film. I was transfixed. Oh my gosh, are octopi actually....badasses? I may now be an ethical vegan, but that doesn't mean I feel gooey toward all creatures great and small. But seeing her in the surreal beauty of the Great African Seaforest in South Africa, the raw emotion on the face of Craig Foster, the diver who became her friend...I had to watch this thing. It was absolutely, profoundly beautiful. I don't want to say any more than that in case you haven't seen it. 


As the credits rolled - me, sobbing - I thought about how sad it would have been if I'd been stuck in my resistance to that which is alien to me. 


I would have totally missed out on this magic! I know from experience what there is to be gained when you open yourself up. I wouldn't have my familiar, Circe, if I still was afraid of cats and believed the myths about them. I wouldn't have discovered that French bulldogs were the sweetest - I know they're having a moment, but for me it took housesitting in Lyon, France with no choice but to live with a Frenchie to discover this. Their drooling and squished faces had turned me off, but now all I see is the love. 
 

Compared to this octopus, I am a basic bitch. How awesome is it to not see yourself as above other creatures? And what can that realization, that empathy, that connection bring to the page for us as writers?

 

• She is fully embodied - 2,000 suckers help her somatically experience her entire life in the sea. What would it look like to be fully embodied in your writing? To get out of your head and into your heart, your limbs, all those places of contraction inside you? (I love the classes at Embody Lab for training in somatics and often find that the writers I work with can benefit from deeper instruction in one of the many somatic modalities they offer. No affiliation, just a fan.)

• She is curious.

• She is courageous.

• She is playful.

• She is willing to take risks to connect.

• She pivots as needed in a sometimes (often) hostile environment. 

• She has a cave to retreat to, and feels no shame in going to it when she needs solitude, feels anxious, or is scared. 

• She is so creative!

• She can blend into her environment, become the space she inhabits.

• She is strange and beautiful and fully her self.

• She's clever.

• She uses what her body offers to make the best of the life she has. 

• She is singular, despite being a "common" octopus. 

I'm curious - what can I, you, we all learn as creatives from this wonderfully artistic creature? And what can we learn about opening up to resistance, aversion, and discomfort with the unknown?


How can we deepen our capacity for empathy and revise the stories we tell ourselves about who we are, our likes and dislikes, what we could NEVER do? 

This is a picture of one of my soul homes, Grand Marais, MN. This Instagram account (not the one pictured, though I adore Dappled Fern) is my weighted blanket and one of the only reasons I lurk on that platform from time to time. 

This winter has been a tough one for me. Maybe for some of you, too. Amazing things are happening - my adult literary thriller is on sub! I got into the Master's in Social Work clinical program at St. Catherine University! I'm in the UCLA Mindfulness Facilitator program and loving it. And so much more. 


But I needed some apricity and my mind is shifting to hope - in myself, in our species' ability to protect the vulnerable of this planet, in the power of story. 


I hope this wonderful octopus and the man whose heart she stole give you a good dose of it. 


Two more bits of nourishment for you:


This podcast episode on the power of awe. 

This piece written by the co-director of My Octopus Teacher. 

Here's to your curiosity and courage and the ways in which the tentacles of your imagination spread into the world...🐙

Yours in doing right by the miracle, 

Befriending Your Perfectionist

“When you tell a story, the first person you must convince is yourself; if you can make yourself believe i’s true, then everyone else will follow. ”

— Raynor Winn, The Salt Path

See that picture up there? That's for you! And me!


I was in my favorite local on my 40th birthday and happened to be in this stall when I made my way to the ladies' room. Some kind soul had written this for every women who goes in there. Women who worry that they're (ahem) getting a bit more gray every day. Women who are on bad dates or drank too much or wore the shirt that shows their tummy rolls or who miss someone they lost or made the mistake of getting drinks with the friend who is hot and will never love them back. Ladies' rooms are powerful spaces and I am always, always in awe of how women have each other's backs in stalls. I've seen so many messages like this over the years. Cheers to us for being the wind in each other's sails. Challenge: buy a Sharpie and leave some messages of your own. Or say a bit of lovingkindness for every woman who will go in there after you. 


One thing these messages do is they tell our Perfectionists to take a knee. A perfect stranger is telling us we matter, we are enough, we are beautiful so, please, Perfectionist, for the love, STFU. 


The thing is, our Perfectionists are parts of us. So when we hate on them, we're just piling more of that rejection and annoyance and frustration on ourselves. This can happen a lot around this time in the New Year, when you have so many goals and expectations and you start to see all the old habits rear up. Let's break the vicious cycle, shall we? 



Because you and your Perfectionist are:

Your Perfectionist and Internal Family Systems

Today's missive came out of a great conversation with one of my writers who is doingmy FLOURISH creative season.Part of what I love about coaching is that we stumble into these gems of deep work, where I'm invited to create a whole structure around a single conversation that can serve future writers I work with. I always have lots to say about the Perfectionist, but this writer challenged me to see the Perfectionist and Inner Critic as separate (for many of you, they are not, and that's perfectly fine). Below is the fruit of that discussion. 



So the big thing we're looking at is your Perfectionist and how this part of you is - even though it's hard to believe - trying to protect you by showing up and slowing you down or causing you to self-doubt. 



What follows is a very simplified riff onInternal Family Systemsdialogue. This is something you would do in therapy or with a trained helping professional, like myself. But I wanted to show you what it looks like when you are able to learn how to befriend a part of you that you might not be very fond of. 



The basic foundation of Internal Family Systems is that we are all composed of many parts and each of these parts has given itself a job, though some parts, called Exiles, are hiding away (hello, shadow work).In this modality, we operate from a place of understanding that ALL of our parts are trying to help us.They might have a funny way of showing it, but they legit think they're protecting you. So that part of you that tells you that you look fat - it doesn't hate you. It's trying to protect you from being unloved and rejected and it's convinced that making you feel bad will inspire you to conform to society's beauty standards so you will be successful and accepted. 



So, let's just work with the idea, for a moment, that your Perfectionist is trying to help you. It's protecting you. It wants the best for you and is terrified that if you aren't perfect, you will be miserable. 



The reason the following work is best done with a therapist or certified helping professional trained in this modality from a reputable institution is because it can bring up a lot of intense emotions and trauma. I don't recommend doing this on your own if you suspect your Perfectionist is connected to something that could seriously dysregulate you. If 1:1 work is not available to you, I recommend first familiarizing yourself with Internal Family Systems -this book is a great start.Glennon even talked about iton a recent podcast. Parts work (IFS) can bring up a lot of unexpected things, so it's important not to fly solo when you go deep with this stuff. Phone a friend if you have to. 



Our goal here is to get in conversation with our Perfectionist, to allow them to be heard, and to get under the hood of why they do what they do.


 

Example Dialogue with Your Perfectionist

You:What are you trying to protect me from?


Perfectionist:Failing. If you fail, then you'll never publish again and all our dreams will die. That's why I have to keep telling you you're not good enough. If you think you're good enough, you'll share your work with the world too soon and it will be rejected and, remember, all our dreams will die. 


(( Notice the language: "our." Your Perfectionist is a part of you, not separate. ))


You:  First, thank you so much for trying to protect me. I don't want to look like a dumbass to the rest of the world. We are on the same page about that. (( Notice affirming the part for what it's trying to do for you. )) The thing is, it's rough for me when you put me down. It makes it harder to write. And I know we both want me to be a successful writer. (( Let them know how you feel. )) What would you rather be doing than reminding me I'm a terrible writer who will never succeed?

(( Note that in a 1:1 dialogue guided by a helping pro, this would take much more time. You'd have an internal room to explore this with your Perfectionist, visualize them, really have a conversation. You'd find out where the roots of all this came from. This is a very amended version). 


Perfectionist:I guess I'd like to be a cheerleader. That sounds more fun. 


You: Would you be willing to cheer me on while I'm writing?


Perfectionist:I don't know if I can. What if it's bad? Like, you're no Margaret Atwood. 


You:Well, if you can't cheer, would you be willing to sit quietly while I'm writing? It's hard for me to work and be good at what I do when you're yelling at me. And I can only get better if I can concentrate. 

Perfectionist:I'll try. 



Your dialogue might be very different, but this is the basic approach. When you befriend your parts, you begin to work together, as a team, rather than sniping at each other like a dysfunctional family unit. 



So it's really about partnership. 



You could enter into this dialogue when your Perfectionist shows up, or you can also do this on your own, after meditation. I highly recommend listening to this talk / guided meditation by one of my teachers, Ralph de la Rosa, a meditation teacher, therapist, and expert in IFS. (A kid randomly asks him a question - this is a recording of a lecture - but this isn't for kids. There's the explanation, then he walks you through a meditation. He's the go-to parts person that I send people to). 

---

Other Ways of Working with Your Perfectionist 

- Pay attention to when your Perfectionist is silent - this is an area where writers feel a natural sense of refuge and confidence. What is happening in the writer's seat or on the page to make them go silent? Can you replicate that more often?


- When we're approaching the work with an honest sense of play, our Perfectionists tend to zip their lips: they're having fun, and they see that you are and there are no stakes here for them to harass you about - you're just playing, right? It's not like you're going to show this to anyone. Trick your Perfectionist if you have to! Do whatever elicits honest play. The key here is to not trick yourself, but to actually orient towards playfulness in the writer's seat as often as possible. There is something really rich here about ways you can bring more playful curiosity and challenge to the writer's seat. Maybe you like to play games with yourself - get to a certain word count before a buzzer goes off, or have something wild happen on the page just to see how characters react. Maybe pomodoros get you going. I once worked with a guy at a theater company who hit an honest-to-god bell every time someone had a great idea or said something hilarious. You do you!


- Create a mission statement for your book that reminds yourself of your reader, who you are writing this for, and what you hope this book will achieve as medicine for yourself and the world. Having this visibly posted and reading it when your Perfectionist says there is no point to your writing can sometimes help with the Perfectionist


- Self-compassion. How can you soothe, be tender and compassionate toward this part of yourself? I think the parts work with Ralph de la Rosa (link way above) will be so helpful and is in alignment with other self-compassion work. 


- Feel the feelings. Right there in the writer's seat,do some RAIN on-the-spot. It really helps and can take as little as a single moment. (Note: I now have the “A” as Allow and the "N" as Nurture - this is considered new best practices for RAIN, rather than non-identification, but you do you!)
 

Understanding Your Internal / External Benchmarks

Internal and external benchmarks are the standards you've set for yourself regarding your writing or your WIP. An internal benchmark might be "To prove to my family and friends that I'm a real writer." An external benchmark might be "To get an agent."


Notice that, with these and many other benchmarks, none of these things are in your control. In fact,control is a huge part of working with your Perfectionist.They are the ultimate control freak. Our perfectionists love control and the hard thing is that we don't control anything about our books once they're out of our hands, so external benchmarks need to be handled very carefully. And we also recognize that, at times, we can't even control our books - there are low flow days because you're sick, or the book asserts its own will. 


So when you understand your benchmarks and begin to work kindly and compassionately with them, eventually reframing and transforming them into something that is in your control (such as your reactions or your commitment to your writing practice), the Perfectionist can no longer run you around with these benchmarks, standards you can't possibly live up to. 



This is huge! So, you now have an assignment to begin listing what your internal and external benchmarks are for your WIP. 



Answer the following questions to wrap your head around what these benchmarks might be (or set up a Breakthrough call with me and we'll sort you out):



1. When does your Perfectionist show up?Is it when you skip a writing day, or when you've just written a scene you're proud of? Maybe it's when you read other people's books or go on social (Don't! It's the thief of your joy!).


2. How is your Perfectionist trying to protect you?You might note the time they come up to get a sense of what's triggering their presence. For example, are they trying to keep you from being too exposed, too vulnerable? Are they hoping you won't be publicly humiliated, or that your family won't be furious with you for writing that memoir? Maybe they don't want you to "go there." Mind-mapping this can really help. 


3. Tease out your answers to get at the heart of your benchmarks. What's really driving them?Now, you're going to look over those answers and begin teasing out specific things. For example, if you said you wanted to write the very best work you can, then this next question would be, "What's the very best work? What does that mean?" If you said, "to get an agent," then tease that out. With both, you're going deeper than the surface benchmark. Way down there, you might end up with realizing that both your internal and external benchmarks are related to trying to prove to yourself and the world that you're a good writer. Then tease that out, "What's a 'good writer'". Now you're getting closer to something you can actually have some agency with. Maybe a good writer digs deep emotionally, writes several times a week, and is in deep flow. You can do that. 


The answers you arrive at are your next steps for working with your Perfectionist.You'll be able to bring support, tools, and modalities that work for you so that you have benchmarks that are nourishing and allow you to tap into your personal power. 


Maybe you work with affirmations. Maybe you finally writethat Writer's Artist Statement I keep nagging you about. Maybe it's time to create a real Reader Avatar that you want to heal or comfort or excite with your book. 


The next step of this work is to do the work of aligning with your purpose, your vocation, with an orientation of service.It takes the pressure and focus off of you. It's no longer about your benchmarks, but about putting the medicine of your book out into the world. It makes it very hard for the perfectionist or inner critic to derail you, because it's tough to argue against "I want my book to heal women who have been traumatized by their bosses." Or whatever. 


One thing that will be helpful is if you can articulate where you feel your Perfectionist in your body. Once you find that area, you can spend some time there in your meditation session. Just being there. Being curious. No storylines or judgment. Just breathing into that space and holding space for this part of you that wants to be seen. It's about dropping the story and just sitting with the physical manifestation of your Perfectionist in your body. Somatic modalities are great with this, including the RAIN meditation I linked to earlier.Lovingkindess mediation is also rally helpful,because the Perfectionist needs to know you are enough, just as you are. 
 

Your Perfectionist Protocol 

Write a list of all the ways that you can work skillfully with your protagonist. A few ways to begin:

- What helps you feel playful?

- When is your Perfectionist quiet?

- Meditations for support that work for you?

- Create a writer's grimoire for instant inspiration. Keep it on your desk!

- Try some tarot for writers to go deeper into your Perfectionist and how you might best respond to it. On-demand or 1:1. 

- Get into a routine that works for you and shows your Perfectionist you have this HANDLED. 

- Take a walk. 

- Avoid bashing your Perfectionist. Kill them with kindness. 

You are enough. And, by the way, your outfit is ON-POINT. 💜

Yours in doing right by the miracle, 

Freezing, Melting, and Flowing in the Writer's Seat

“Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height. Live in fragments no longer.”

— E.M. Forster, Howard's End

---

Happy 2023, camerados!


I've been thinking so much about what might be most supportive to those of you reading this post. It feels important, the first one of the year. I always have so many ideas, but I didn't want a * thing * to say or a concept to teach...I just wanted to connect. 


I was wandering around the house, musing on this and other topics, when I noticed a constant thin stream of water pouring outside an upstairs window. It faces south, and today there is FINALLY some sun. The icicles were melting!



I didn't know that watching icicles melt was just what my heart needed - a reminder that no state, however cold or uncomfortable, is constant. We freeze, we melt, and then we flow. 


Are you in a freeze, melt, or flow state right now? 



I'm in a melting state. I wrote a post from the writing trenches at the end of last year, right after I turned in my most recent revision of my WIP to my agent. In this liminal time of waiting for notes from her, I've found myself re-reading old, shelved projects and falling in love with them again. My frozen feelings about them - giving up, frustration, despair - are melting away and I can suddenly see my joy in the books again - it had just been hiding under all that ice. I hadn't expected that - staying up late reading my own rejected books. Nor had I expected to want to give them a fighting chance again. 


I chose the quote from Howard's End above because that's where I'm at right now - I want to continue to connect my writing to my passions, including my passion to be transported and to highlight love in all its forms. I've been working hard to "live in fragments no longer" through aligning all the work I do through the singular wish to do right by the miracle. 


Are you living your life in fragments? What would it look like to "live in fragments no longer"?


Doing right by the miracle can be really tough if you, like me, have a great deal of chronic pain, tend toward burnout due to a variety of passions and responsibilities, and are trying to deepen your spiritual practices while simultaneously not taking yourself too seriously (everyone needs an Emily in Paris binge now and again).


Fragmentation can easily occur without a heartfelt intention to keep remembering what matters most. 


My Zen teacher recently asked me: "Why do you meditate?" I've been sitting with that question for a while - it can be so easy to just go through the motions. Why DO I meditate? Why do I write? The new year is always a good time to ask ourselves questions like this.


Honest, tender gut checks are necessary to wake up to our lives and how we want to live them with our whole non-fragmented selves. 


This brings me back to icicles. What is so cool is that, when the ice melts, it's not a fragment of an icicle, not broken or discarded. It's the frozen water that briefly enjoyed time as ice art returning to its original un-frozen state, curious and open and nimble. Maybe it will fall into a patch of snow or be sipped up by a bird or soak into the earth to nourish buried seeds. The possibilities for what it will do are endless. Whether it is frozen or melting or flowing, it's still itself, reacting creatively to whatever is in its environment, responding to the present moment. Kind of like some writers I know. 😉


The word I chose for 2023 is INVIGORATED. I figure that if I'm feeling invigorated, I stand a good chance of getting something worth sharing on the page. When I'm invigorated - as I was seeing that icicle melting - I'm feeling connected to myself, to my readers, to the earth, to Source. 



I worked from that place, writing this to you. 

Below, I've curated a variety of resources to support a heart-centered, non-fragmented writing practice and creative life: I hope one of them is just what your heart needs right now, whether you are freezing, melting, or flowing. 
 

---

Free Workbooks, Meditations, Recorded Workshops and Worksheets

If you didn't get this in your last newsletter, it's not too late to dip into the Get Clear. In fact, I like to look at this throughout the year to check in with my intentions, dreams, and schemes. Get instant access on the Lotus & Pen subscriber portal. If you’re not on the list, you can jump on here and instantly access the workbook, which includes word play, tarot spreads, writing explorations, and more to help you get clear.

The Lotus & Pen portal is regularly updated with new, free support for your writing practice. Plus, you get inspiration in your box about twice a month.

---

Free 2023 Quarterly Workshops

This year, we're doing something extra special with the free Well Quarterly Gatherings. In collaboration with Rebecca Dykes Writers, an organization dedicated to supporting writers who tell stories to end violence against women and girls, we’ll be focusing our 2023 Well efforts on the topic of writing trauma.

In our first Gathering, we’ll look at practices you can begin right away to support working with material that is painful or traumatic.

I’ll be drawing from my own experience writing trauma, my work with Rebecca Dykes Writers, and Trauma Sensitive Mindfulness practices to help you have the support you need in the writer’s seat.

---

Advice for When…

You’re Freezing, Melting, or Flowing

• This post will help you get to the heart of WHY you write and WHO you write for. It's the gut check of gut checks for writers. 

• This post is for those of you who are STILL trying to figure out how to write a decent freaking chapter. 

• Struggling to make time for your writing? Here are some good tips for good writer hygiene. 

• I finally found a way to apparate to my dream writing space. You can come, too. 

---

1:1 Support & Mentorship

I now have a nice-sized handful of on-demand support, from process to craft to tarot. Any of these courses and mini-courses are a great way to begin the new year. 

I have several different ways we can work 1:1 together, whether it's a creative season or single call. I love working with writers during powerful transition times, such as the new year. There is so much good energy to work with and a sincere desire to enact change. Get ready for some breakthroughs!

Head's up: Creative seasons (three or six months of coaching) begin on the 1st or 15th of the month. All single calls can be at any time.

May you be happy, healthy, safe and inspired in 2023 and beyond.

Remember: ALWAYS CONNECT! ❤️

Temptation Bundling For Writers

““We think that the point is to pass the test or overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.””

— Pema Chödrön

How do we go from out of shape writers to the kinds of artists who are in peak condition? And how do we pick ourselves back up when we, once again, fall off the writing wagon?


Temptation Bundling, that's how.



Temptation bundling is one of those productivity hacks that are so simple we take them for granted and don't make good use of them.


It's basically this:


Combine something you really want to do with something you

* should * do.


I know "should" is one of those words we're trying to erase out of our vocabularies (and for good reason!), but it often feels like we "should" be writing. We want to, but we're not. There's a lot of reasons - inner critic, self-doubt, limiting beliefs, etc. In fact, your inner critic is likely tricking you into the "shoulds" feeling in the first place. Writing is a drag, you'll never reach your goals, what's the point anyway? (Sound familiar?)


Here's the thing: you can trick your resistance.


There was a study* done where people who wanted to exercise were given three motivators:


One group received free highly-anticipated audiobooks, but could only listen when at the gym.


The second group received the free audiobooks, but they could listen to them anywhere. They were encouraged to listen at the gym, but it was up to them.


The third group received a gift card for audio books, and were encouraged to work out more.


So, how did that work out?


Group #1 worked out 51% more than anyone else - because they were temptation bundling. The thing they wanted was only linked to the thing they should do.


Group two, who could listen to the audiobooks whenever, exercised 29% more than the folks who got the gift cards.


* Study conducted by Dr. Katherine Milkman.

Here are a few ways you can try temptation bundling to get you in the writer's seat...

• My personal favorite: I can only be cozy in bed with blankets and my kitty in the middle of the afternoon if I'm writing.

• Only drink your favorite beverage of the day while writing. (Unless it's booze - that won't help you).

• You can only sit in your favorite writing chair for writing. Put that chair in your favorite place in the house, and it will be hard to resist sitting your bum down.

• You can only light that really expensive candle you love when you're writing.

• That yummy snack you can't get enough of? Only eat it when you're writing.

• That fancy planner you got? You can only use it JUST BEFORE you begin writing for the day, after you've sat down in the writer's seat and marked off your writing time.

• Your CP, who you love to chat all things writing with? You two can only jump on a call if you both wrote that day.

Temptation bundling is a bit different from your traditional rewards method, because it's combining that thing you want with your writing, not as a reward after writing. (Though the last one is more reward-based, but because it's a relationship founded on your writing, I think it works).

A Report From The Writing Trenches

Let me start off this post by reminding you of something that is easy to forget when you’re in the writing trenches:


Whatever you are writing - we need it.


We need the sad (provided by yours truly) and we need the hilarious and the sexy and the weird and the adventures and the wizards and the dragons and the little girl looking for her stuffed animal and a pigeon who can't drive for shit. We need them all.

Sometimes you’re in the flow zone with your work, and sometimes you’re not.

The “not” times can be deeply painful and really do a number on your self-confidence, your heart, your spirit. If you’re in that place right now - courage, dear heart. This is normal:

Creativity is all about ebb and flow and learning how to wait for the waves just as skillfully as riding a big one to the shore.

I wanted to take this chance at the end of the year to share my journey of writing my work-in-progress with you because I know that many of you lose a bit of heart each time you see another writer has finished a book or revision and you’re still stuck. You might remind yourself that you’re only seeing the highlights, but that can be cold comfort.

Let’s peek behind the curtain, shall we?

The Story of Writing My Current Work-in-Progress

I am happy to report that I recently finished another revision of my WIP, A Correspondence.

This is my first novel written specifically for adults, not a YA audience, and it’s been a really big learning curve. Let’s also remember that, while it was really exciting to send the full revision to my agent (based on her last notes), I know there is much more to do. I already have a list of fixes, then I’ll have her notes to contend with. Who knows when we’ll go on sub and what the response will be? Right now, though, I’m celebrating. It’s so important to make space to do that.

Don’t just celebrate the book deal: Celebrate the great sentence, the finished tough scene, the first draft, a whole week of writing.

I’m not just celebrating finishing the draft: I’m celebrating getting to be in the flow zone and have that wild, mad dash to the finish line. I’d set a deadline for myself to get it to her by Christmas, and I did. Turns out, I really need that hard deadline and I save up all my writing and energy for that last week. Do you do that, too? That’s not procrastination, that’s channeling big flow (at least for me).

What’s Your Pressing Thing?

I’m not always in the flow zone because LIFE, so know that I wasn’t breezily writing this thing. Even if you know your process inside and out, even if you’re consistent and show up, even if you want it so bad…sometimes there are other more pressing things in life than writing a story. In fact, there are often more pressing things. And that’s okay.

My pressing thing is chronic pain and the endless question of how to cultivate and cobble together a livelihood that reflects my values and passions. There are, of course, many demands on my time and energy and those are pressing, too.

Take a second to identify what your pressing things are. It helps to put having less time to write into perspective. Permission to be human.

The Book’s Timeline

I began writing this book during lockdown in 2020.

In the early days of 2020 COVID lockdown, the entire plot for this book literally downloaded into me. And the characters. And the world. I had the whole book. I could have written it in a few weeks, shoved it over to my agent, and moved on.


The last time that happened (my debut novel, Something Real), I wrote the book in six weeks.


This time, it took me six months to write 15 pages.


I kept trying to remind myself that this was okay. There was a global pandemic, and much of my energy went to staying safe, checking in with others, adjusting to COVID life, and holding as much space as I could for my writing community and friends and clients.

I’d also just had my last novel come out, Little Universes, and was in the process of going through final edits for Code Name Badass, which published in 2021. So I was a little busy.

I was in the creative cave as a coach—creating and teaching courses and workbooks and The Well.

But none of this was writing this book, and that got me down. I missed writing. This was a time where I had to be really honest with myself and admit that it was not a season for creating new work. This was tough, even though it was healthy to not put the burden of writing a new and very hard and painful book on myself at a time where so much was going on in my life and in the world at large.

My brain just couldn’t hold it all. And the book I was writing wasn’t an escape from the pain of the world—it was intended to go straight into the thick of it. So, of course I didn’t want to work on it during the height of the pandemic.

Turtle vs Hare

To recap: it took me 6 months to write 15 pages (September 2020).

It took me another two years to finish a first, messy draft, which I sent to my agent in September 2022.

Then It took me two months to re-write the beginning, per my agent’s recommendation, which gets us to now, December 2022.


This is precious. And it doesn't happen often. It's what writers live for.

So what was happening during those two years of slowly drafting?

I’d been slowly putting down words while I basically lived with war correspondents in my head. I read their memoirs, listened to them on podcasts, obsessively looked for specific bylines in the Times. (Is anyone else wondering when Tyler Hicks is going to take a break photographing in Ukraine??? No? I guess that's just me).


When I was a wee lass, I always thought I would be a war correspondent. A while back, I wrote about living in the Ukraine and the effect this war in particular has had on me.

I'm being given the chance to have that job, through my characters, and I disn’t want to rush it.

When it wakes me up in the middle of the night, my characters talking to each other, and the whole thing is in conversation with my entire life around me. It took a while to get to this point with the book, despite living with the subject matter daily.

But even when I’m not in the zone, my writing is my best teacher - whether or not I’m actually doing it. My relationship to it, how I respond to being in or out of flow, how I treat others on days I do or don’t write…all of it is fertile ground for waking up more and more to my life.


I know my process inside and out, but that doesn't mean that a book is a tidy thing so long as you know your process.


Every book has its own vibe, its own pace, its own requests of you. It's a relationship.


Knowing your process is what allows you to navigate that relationship without losing your ever-loving mind, and hopefully remembering once in a while that you actually are volunteering to write - it's not a sentence imposed on you by a federal court for being a cloud dwelling artist - and also...it's fun?

So that two years, there was actual writing, but then lots of living with the questions of the book, with the subject matter, the lives of my characters. I was constantly re-working their Character Keys (see my Unlock Your Novel workbook).

That was all writing, too.

But, then, some unexpected challenges came up….

Seasons of Doubt

Because my book is about war correspondents, I found my motivation over the whole course of writing the first draft ebbing and flowing, just like flow itself.

I wondered if I wanted to write about war anymore, if the world even needed another book about the worst aspect of human nature. I wrote about veterans and PTSD in I'll Meet you There and I'd spent enough time in WWII France with Virginia Hall for Badass. I have a partially finished WWII novel set in Hamburg. I have the beginnings of a biography about women in war. Was this obsession with war a way of punishing myself for my relative safety by living in war zones in my books?


(No. But I had to do some inner work to figure some stuff about that out, especially because both of my parents were Marines. It's complicated.)


So I tried to write other things. I mean, I really did try. I had a great reincarnation star-crossed-lovers thing going.


But I had these three characters. They were stuck in a city under siege and they had twenty-four hours to find the thing they needed. What the hell was I doing - didn't I realize there was a war on???


So I wrote half the book. Very slowly. But I still had one foot out the door. Shit, the world is in a bad way. Why couldn't I bring something sweet and tender into it? Why do I always have to work in the shadows?


And then Ukraine happened.


And, not to sound like a policy wonk, but I swear my book was based on Putin's Black Sea geopolitical maneuverings and it weirded me out. Like I had written the future. My book took place in an unnamed city in the Black Sea region, but my protagonist, like me, had lived with a missionary family in the Crimea, in the south of Ukraine, so Ukraine was all over this book.


But it was like my book had come to life before me, and in order to figure out for myself why people do this, why we do what we do as humans, I had to write it. Even if it never published. But what if it DID publish? Was that gross and wrong? To write this novel while pregnant women are being murdered in maternity wards?


I texted my agent: Was I exploiting this war by writing this book, even though I'd started it two years earlier? Was it wrong?


She texted back to remind me why we write and read and tell stories: they heal. They help us and others process. This was the time to write this book.


My characters texted too and told me that it's our job to keep the record of humanity. That's why they were out there, getting shot at, so could I please take my cozy ass back to my desk? I have an assignment, and so do they.


I always say every book is your teacher and I knew from day one that this book was going to teach me about evil.


About how to work around or through it, how to fight it, how to not lose hope because of how much of it there is in the world. It was going to teach me about what my responsibility was in the midst of it all. What was being asked of me, in terms of this lifetime and doing right by the miracle. And that scared the shit out of me because I tend to write about dark enough stuff thankyouverymuch.

I tell you this because I know many of you are not in this place of relief and joy of finishing a book. You're floundering or just feeling weird and aimless and sad.


I felt that way sometimes over the past two years, but not that often. Because I knew the book was there and the time wasn't right. I knew it was a season of listening and waiting.


So I could just be loose about it (with occasional existential freak-outs) and know that this book or whatever book wants and needs to be written would come through, so long as I created a good container for it to live and thrive in. Which is basically my life's work, this idea of tending to our writer selves all the time so that we are primed for these seasons of deep work.


It's important to keep the lights on and tend to the basics, and to trust that I have a process, and that my book is my teacher, and that both will find me if I can't seem to find them because I am a lighthouse, and I keep it burning so that they can find me in the sea of possible stories. I look for the ship with my name on it.


In the spirit of keeping the lights on, I now present one of my favorite tools from my toolbox:

laughter.

These belly laughs were curated by one of my favorite humorists, Jenny Lawson in her newest book, Broken (in the best possible way):

“Once high-fived a retail staffer who was helping me. Turns out she was waving to a friend outside the store. Still not over it.” @kirstenduke


"A friend thanks me for coming to their husband's funeral. My reply? "Anytime." @cardinalbiggles


New neighbors. Saw their wedding photo and said "Don't you miss the 80's?" They replied, "That was last year." It was 2005. @Lou_C69


A friend went and placed her order at drive thru. She then heard "Could you drive up to the speaker? You're talking the trash can." @gotcookies

I hope those people's stories made you laugh. I was literally crying when I read through the lengthy list in Jenny Lawson's book. I needed to break the stress cycle, and laughter does it every time. (Don't know what I mean by break the stress cycle? Read the Nagoski sisters' book Burnout.)

Wherever you are in the writing trenches, just keep going. You’ve got this.

Creating Your Writing SOS Plan

I’m gonna give credit for this idea to Noom, the psychology-based weight-loss program that I checked out because I wanted to see the science and strategy behind what they were doing.

This was one of their strategies that really resonated with me that I thought might be really useful for me and my writers:

They call it a “Motivation S.O.S Plan” - here, I’m calling it a Writing S.O.S Plan. It’s the thing you implement when your commitment to your writing practice has gone off the rails.

You come up with the following:

Warning Sign: What’s a sign that things are getting off-track?

Danger Zone: Okay, now that warning sign has progressed from orange to red. It’s possible you will go totally off the rails if you keep going in this direction.

Reaction: So, what do you do to get back on track?

Example:

Warning Sign: Skip a writing day.

Danger Zone: Skip three writing days in a row.

Reaction: You might call your writing buddy for some accountability, set alarms on your phone so you don’t miss your writing time, put your writing time in your calendar, get up earlier…etc.

That’s really all there is to it. So, my little challenge to you: create a Writing S.O.S plan, choose an accountability partner, really stick to it…and see the results.

You may have multiple S.O.S plans going, but start with one first and revise it as needed so that it’s really working for you.

Happy writing!

Your 2023 Get Clear Workbook

It’s here!!!!

Rather than write a post about the free workbook I offer every year for my newsletter subscribers, I’m just going to share the welcome letter at the beginning of the workbook, which will give you a good sense of whether or not this offering will be most supportive to you right now:

✨ The Get Clear Workbook Welcome Letter ✨

Whether you're diving into this workbook as 2022 comes to a close or at any old time during 2023, my hope is that the Get Clear workbook will be a space you can return to as often as you like, a sanctuary for clarity, realignment, and rejuvenation. I recommend printing this out, getting some solitude, grabbing your favorite pens, and having at it. A fun soundtrack and cuppa wouldn't hurt, either. 
 

One of the things I appreciate about journaling workbooks like these is that we get to indulge our obsession with words. For me, a single word or phrase can unlock tremendous insight. Over the years, I've gone from hardcore journaling or Morning Pages to more playful explorations: writing haikus, choosing a cluster of words to work with or finding a single phrase that feels powerful and motivating that I can repeat to myself like a mantra. I've also deepened my tarot practice, so I've got a fun all-new spread for you included in this year's workbook that brings together imagery and words.


As usual, there's a slew of inspirational quotes that you can use as jumping-off points for all kinds of exploratory writing. We'll also be looking at what your guiding word for 2023 might be, and the intention you have behind how you want to show up each day in and out of the writer's seat by revisiting (or trying for the first time) the Be/Do/Feel/Have Formula - my go-to for instant clarity and empowerment!

I went with a collage theme for the 2023 workbook because I feel like that's what my life is becoming more and more these days: a collage of passions that work together to form a whole, no matter how different they may appear at first. In my second novel, I'll Meet You There, the protagonist, Skylar, is a collage artist, and she sees this medium as a way to take all the parts of her--the beautiful, the mundane, and even the seemingly ugly--and find a way to make something whole and inspiring and meaningful.

I hope that 2023 is a year of piecing together all the parts of you on and off the page to tell the riveting story of your life and your place in the greater story of this planet.


As Sue Monk Kidd says in The Invention of Wings: Press on, my sisters. It's rough out there, but we have our words, our imaginations, and the community of women writers all over the world on this journey with us. May you be happy, healthy, safe, and inspired.