Inspiration

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,

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!

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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 -

 

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! 

 

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, 

Creating A Writer's Grimoire


My Writer's Grimoire

I have been meaning to post this for the longest time, but better late than never, right?


The practice of creating and using what I call a “Writer’s Grimoire” is something I've been sharing with my 1:1 writers for approximately 10,000 years—and, like everything I share—is something I’ve found great benefit in doing myself.


I got mine at the Renn fair—doesn’t it just ooze magic? It has gorgeous handmade paper, too.



A grimoire is a witch's spell book, and when I thought about what a spell book is - that which uses words and rituals and tools to call forth something we want into being - I knew we writers needed those too.


So I started working with a fancy journal filled with my favorite inspirational quotes, washi tape, used pretty markers, added meditations I liked, mantras, mindset strategies. I could tape pictures from magazines in there. Photographs. Whatever.


It's basically a scrapbook you open when you need inspiration or have a creativity meltdown.


You can write your be-do-feel-have statements in there, your process after you go through You Have A Process (see what I did there?🙃).


One of my writers said she got a recipe box instead, and is writing all her stuff on cards. She's also the writer who once told me she was going to write writing warmup exercises on the cards of a card deck, then she can shuffle them and do one in the morning. HOW COOL IS THAT?


Anyway, wouldn't a fun artist’s date be to go find a very grimoirish journal (I recommend blank pages) and fun supplies and have at it?! You can also find gorgeous stuff on Etsy or anywhere you like to find your most magical writing supplies.


The world is tough right now, but this is something to find a little fire for your lighthouse. Something that you help you signal to your stories, who are waiting out in that sea, looking for you.


Plus, it's super fun and healing and affirming of your inner wisdom. It's empowering and tender and wonderful. Have fun!



How To Use Your Spells



The whole point of the grimoire is to have a go-to resource when your inner critic strikes or you simply need to remember why you write, what they point of it is…basically, when it gets existential in the writer’s seat.



 
 

I always suggest putting notes to self in there, reminding yourself of wins, of tools that have been helpful. Writing out how you did something when it worked. If there’s a meditation you like, write it down in there so you don’t forget how to do it. Favorite websites, books, bits of poetry, things you cut out from magazines, vision board kinda stuff…really, anything goes.



While I also recommend having a folder of bookmarks on your desktop with things that boost you, there’s nothing like a good, old-fashioned book of writing magic.



If you get one, send me a picture and tell me how you’re using it.