Don’t Despise The Day of Small Things

Just a quick post today. A lot has been happening lately with the book, the blog, and my novel in progress (more on that later!) but through all the little steps forward and the big steps forward I have felt in my spirit a repeated reminder:

“Don’t despise the day of small things.”

Big things are coming, and they’re coming soon. I could write so many posts on how I know that, but you’d think me even crazier than you already do, so I’ll skip that part and just tell you that I’m looking forward to an AMAZING year in 2011. But all that success had to start with a seed. And that seed has to sprout before it can bloom. We’re at the sprout stage now. And when I start to get angsty about things not moving forward fast enough, I remind myself to enjoy what may possibly be the last days of the seed stage: I have time to relax. I have relative anonymity (yes, at some point that may go out the window, and I’m feeling good and bad about that).

If you are on your way to big successes, or you hope you are, take the time to enjoy the little steps forward as part of the journey. Someday you’ll look back and remember this time as the last time you had time to relax before the big time hit and your world changed. Your day is coming. Don’t despise the day of small things, which is when you are tested to see if you’re ready to handle more.

Peace!

–Laura

I Came So Close To Never Writing Again

I would like to save this post for when I am a famous author being interviewed on NPR, but I’m going to share it with you now, despite my embarrassment, in the hopes that it encourages someone who is afraid to write–or that it helps you encourage someone.

There has been a lot of commentary and response lately to the recent student suicides that were the result of vicious bullying. I also just found out that my 16-year-old brother-in-law, who has aspergers, has been bullied at school and hit his limit last week. Thank God he knows how to flip out or reach out for help without hurting other people. He is a smart, sweet kid, and I hope things get better for him now that everyone is taking the situation seriously.

What most people in my life don’t know is that I was on the receiving end of persistent bullying in junior high. And it almost stopped me from writing for good. What happened to me was so painful to me that even though I wanted to write so badly that it hurt, I just couldn’t trust paper with my inner thoughts again for many years. Fifteen years, to be exact. Bullying made a mess of me. If you’ve ever known me to be prickly or reserved or arrogant or snide or perfectionistic or defensive, this is the root of it all. I am still climbing out of this self-protective hole. But I’m not writing this to get your pity. I’m telling you my story to tell you two ways you can do something about bullying and keep other kids from going through everything I had to to get back to my center and start writing again.

It doesn’t really take much to convince a twelve-year-old girl that she’s ugly and worthless. Being ignored, purposely excluded from groups, or mercilessly teased on a daily basis will definitely do the trick. And unlike my brother-in-law, I didn’t know how to ask for help, because I was embarrassed that the bullying was going on at all. After a while it sank into me, became a part of my identity. I remember a time when I told myself to memorize the appearance of my hands, because they were the only thing about myself that I didn’t hate. But one day my mom’s friend paid me a compliment about my skin, which meant a lot to me because she could see that I had a lovely peachy skin tone even though my skin was broken out. And that was what I wanted most of all–for the people around me to see through my glasses and bad haircut and bad skin and value the person I was inside. Taking a giant leap of faith, I wrote down these thoughts in my binder one night. And a few days later, I took another leap of faith and threw this writing out in the trash can at school along with some old homework. I told myself it was paranoid to think that the mean girls in my class would go through the trash to see what I had thrown away. I mean, come on! I decided I just wasn’t going to be that paranoid person, and I went ahead and cleaned out my binder, threw the papers in the trash.

The mean girls pawed through the trash and found my inner thoughts. And then they shared them with the twelve-year-old boys (what could be worse?). And the boys read them in front of their math class (oh, that is worse). And then they passed the note around and read it in front of other classes, none of which I was in (still worse: I was oblivious to why boys were jokingly flirting with me in the halls for two days). And then when I found out what was going on, on March fifteenth (beware the Ides of March, right? Of course I remember the day. I remember what I was wearing. I remember everything.), they passed the paper on to other schools in town. I asked for it back. They said they didn’t know where it had gone. They were lying. It’s still out there somewhere.

To my creative openness, this was a near death blow. And some kid out there is going through the exact same thing right now, and maybe they are supposed to be a writer too, just like me. I want you to do what you can to help them, so they don’t wait fifteen years to start writing again.

Here is what you can do:

1) When you see the bullying, don’t turn away in embarrassment. Speak up. It will make all the difference. Where were the teachers in the classes where the boys read my note? Did they briefly step out of the classroom when this happened? Did they stand by? I don’t know. But if the first teacher had taken the note away from the first boy who read it, things would have been different for me. If the second teacher had taken away the note, and so on, it would have helped. If one other kid in the entire school had said, “Hey guys, this is really mean and immature. Let’s give Laura her paper back,” it might have made a difference. Even the kids who clearly cared were silent. Be anything but silent.

2) Encourage a bullied kid in their gifts. Most bullied kids are kind of nerdy, which means they’re usually pretty brilliant at something. I had created my own language for secret communication with my friends by sixth grade and written a thick folder full of poetry by seventh grade. I got straight A+s in English grammar and Spanish. Clearly I had a thing for languages. If someone had said something to me, encouraged me to write more, I would have held on to that scrap of hope like a life raft. If someone said anything to me like this, I don’t remember. Of course it was more obvious that I was talented at playing the piano, since I did that in public, so it’s possible people encouraged me in this instead. But you get my point, right? It never hurts to encourage kids that they are talented, and bullied kids really need to hear this.

Also, keep in mind that a negative statement carries ten times the power of a positive one. One well-meaning English professor in college told me NOT to write fiction but to teach grammar instead. Guess which part of that statement burned into my brain and kept me from taking the plunge for a few more years? I’m doing it anyway, now that I have my confidence back, but it took a while to pull myself up out of self-doubt and fear.

None of us is perfect about encouraging others, or even avoiding saying hurtful things–certainly not me. But we all can do more to help kids who are being picked on. I know it. Will you keep your eyes open for someone who needs encouragement this week? My twelve-year-old self would be forever grateful to you.

 

How I Would NOT Recommend Celebrating Becoming a Self-Published Author

I did it! I had to switch to Lulu at the last minute (and reformat everything, redesign the cover) to publish my book because Amazon wouldn’t let me reference the word “Amazon” in the text of my book (um, okay… ) and I needed to send readers to Amazon to buy a few hard-t0-find products, but it’s really done: As of last night, I’m a self-published author. That’s one big item checked off the bucket list! Here is the link to the book and e-book, Ecofrugal Baby: How To Save 70% Off Baby’s First Year. I was so excited after I finally got the prep work wrapped up and the book off to press, but then, well….

My baby girl is teething, AGAIN, poor thing, so she was waking up every 20 minutes last night all through the evening. I decided I would give her some Tylenol to help comfort her through the rest of the night, but she wasn’t awake enough to swallow it. She gagged on it and threw up all over herself and my bed. Fabulous. So I spent those exciting post-publishing minutes cleaning throw-up out of my daughter’s hair. Aint that just life? I would recommend that when you reach a milestone like this one, you toast with champagne or take a day off instead.

Then there was the appraiser coming to the house this morning, which I had all polished and ready with the help of my mom, but this time I lucked out. I decided that freshly baked cookies might be a nice treat for him (and cover the faint smell of the diabetic cat’s last accident in the hall), so I started baking away just as he arrived. Thank GOODNESS I was a little late on that one, because as soon as he left the cookies came out of the oven, running melted butter (which I had accidentally doubled in the recipe) all over the oven floor. And then I had the brilliant idea to put the oven on self-clean, which started a grease fire I was unable to open the oven door to put out, because it was locked for self-cleaning. Wouldn’t that have impressed the appraiser? Yeeeah. I think I should toast this milestone with a nap now. G’night!

Catch The Wind

Bald Eagle, photo credit PDImages.com

I want to share something with you that I found inspiring, and I hope it doesn’t sound preachy. The author of a book I’m editing tells a story about how when a storm comes, chickens flap their wings and run around in circles. Eagles are different. They sit on a rock and wait, and when the storm arrives they rise up to catch the wind and use the storm to soar higher into the air than they could normally go. Isn’t that how we all hope to react to the storms in our lives?

I tend to get nervous in the face of a coming storm, but also excited. Something in me recognizes an opportunity in upheaval; the trick is to time my actions just right to take advantage of upheaval instead of being uprooted by it. It’s tough to know how to do that, or if I’ve done it right even after the storm has passed. I do believe that if we keep an ear open for God’s voice of wisdom, though, we have a chance to react like eagles to tough times.

I have a habit of panicking in situations like this; taking matters into my own hands. But last year, I think I actually handled a storm like an eagle. The month before I was laid off from my last full-time job, I had three dreams about tornados in quick succession, and I knew something was up. I always dream of tornados before big upheaval in my life; they represent the winds of change to me–hence my interest in this metaphor of eagles rising on the winds of a storm. These particular tornado dreams dealt with my workplace and my family life and seemed to be warning me that a big change was coming in my work that would make a lot of noise, but that it wouldn’t do any damage to my personal life, that my family would be completely untouched by it. That couldn’t be more true, as it turns out.

Now, of course business was bad enough in the company I worked for that I had expected things to go sour long before they did and wasn’t at all surprised that things ended the way they did, but there was some inside information in the dreams that really encouraged me (even made me laugh!) that God was in control and I didn’t have to worry. For once–FOR ONCE!–I listened, and saved myself a lot of worry. Learning to listen to God’s direction can be as simple as paying attention when a small voice in your spirit warns you to do something (or often not to do something) that you wouldn’t otherwise have done, and that advice lines up with Scripture and the character of God, or it can be more involved–after all, communicating with God is all about relationship. But it’s so worth it, even if there are no clear road signs to show you the way.

I hope that was encouraging to you to pursue a relationship with God and to approach the storms in your life as opportunities instead of disasters, and didn’t sound too preachy. Blessings!

Are There 25 Hours in a Day?

If you're in a creative rut, The Artist's Way will peel you off the pavement, then The Creative Habit will set your mind dancing again.

I can hear my little sister’s reaction now: “Riiiight. So how’s that workin’ for ya?” she will ask me with one eyebrow up (her eyebrow goes up so high I can hear it over the phone). She knows me. She knows I like to DO things. And boy am I ever doing things right now!

I am in a groove, as Twyla Tharp would call it. Every time I take a walk, an idea for a piece of my novel or an entirely new book project springs into my mind. “Structure the book as an escape to the outdoors in the same way Robbe-Grillet structured The Erasers city in a circle to hint at the story’s ending!” I gasp into my iPhone’s voice recorder, and suddenly the whole novel gels and the symbolism that’s already central to the plot is perfectly sewn together. Sweet! It’s not effortless, but it’s the fun kind of working up a sweat.

If you include my full-time “momming,” I am currently working 75 hours a week, but I’ve never felt more energized. That is the definition of a groove, or it should be. All grooves come to an end, but I am riding this one like a wild horse. No way am I going to let fear or distractions or anything else deter me from getting every drop of fun out of this groove.

How did I get here? I don’t really know, but the one thing I’m doing differently this time that might have something to do with it is this: I’m not over-thinking my plans. I have plans upon plans–that’s what I’m so excited about!–but I am focusing on the short-term plans right now to explore these rabbit trails, then later I’ll see if I want to pick one trail above the others. I also took Pete Michaud’s advice not to make everything perfect before launching my new blog, and that has paid dividends in creativity and forward momentum. Thanks, Pete!

Two years ago I had barely worked up the courage to say aloud that I wanted to write at all. So my self-confidence has changed as well. All I can say is, it’s about time!

If you’re in a groove or remember a good one, how did you get there? If your groove turned to a rut, what caused that to happen?

When It Rains

In the last week we had a fabulous baby shower (this time nearly 50 people showed up!), many appointments, and I’ve been finishing up a few work projects and scrambling to get some last-minute baby items together (such as, um, a crib). Unfortunately, my grandma is also dying, just four weeks before baby is due, which is sad because she was so excited to meet her.

I feel like I’m trying to take a final exam while drugged–I can’t even figure out the right pair of scissors to use to open a box–and my husband seems a little mystified at my inability to make a decision, as I normally know exactly what I want.   Pregnancy brain at its finest, and at the most opportune time.

Anyway, I will be back with more blog posts, but right now I can’t think in a straight line, so please stick with me, comrades. I will be back, hopefully with a few more brain cells to rub together for our mutual benefit. It’s always great to hear your comments, here or on Twitter, and discuss with you publishing, freelancing, the auto industry, the economy, and life in general. If you have any suggestions for topics you’d like to see covered here, please let me know! We’re now at the top of the new mommy roller coaster. Hands in the air. Here we go…

Shake Hands with the Elephant

Photo by Whipped Bakeshop, Flickr

You know that team-building exercise where you stand on a table with your arms crossed mummy style, then fall backwards into the waiting arms of your co-workers? …or maybe you hit the floor with a foundation-shaking bang.

Yesterday I attended a baby shower that was kind of like the latter scenario, only I didn’t spew milk out my nose like I do watching office retreats gone wrong. It was a lovely party, but the only guest besides the wonderful girls who planned it was the elephant in the room: the fact that there were no guests. It was awkward for all of us, particularly for me as the shower was for my baby…. Was everyone who RSVPed that they were coming passed out in a ditch from eating an excess of Cadbury creme eggs?

This isn’t supposed to be a pity post, though it is rapidly heading in that direction. This unfortunate party just reminded me of how lots of people are trying to be optimistic right now–about the economy, their job prospects, finances, retirement–but how far should we take that optimism? When is it time to shake hands with the elephant? I suspected that the turnout for this party might be low, but I kept telling myself to have more faith in people. Is that what we’re all doing still living in Michigan when GM is days away from bankruptcy? Setting our expectations a wee bit too high?

I don’t like reaching out and finding there is no hand there to take mine, and Michiganders don’t like thinking about the fact that most of us really are stuck and unsure of what to do. Do we wait it out?

There is another baby shower next week. I’m trying to beat my expectations down, but it kind of has to be better than the last one. Right?

We Will Party Hard

I just had to listen to some Andrew W. K. the other day and tell myself to lighten the frick up. I’m tired of worrying, tired of the economic doom and gloom, tired of the bad news coverage of Michigan. Have we hit bottom? Probably not, but why wait? It’s time to take a break and throw a party, for no other reason than the fact that we’re all still here. Turn off the Fox Fear Channel and do a little victory dance with me.

I present you with some positive news from my neck of the woods:

1) I don’t live in a war zone.

2) I haven’t lost any family or friends to disease or accidents lately.

3) The birds are singing straight through the April snowstorm outside. The air is clean, and the crocuses are blooming.

4) My first baby is due next month.

5) My pregnancy nausea has lifted enough in the last 2 weeks that I can enjoy food again! I’ve missed our special times together, food.

6) My husband is truly wonderful and only gets better with time.

7) I haven’t had a migraine in so long I can barely remember how awful it was. What an unspeakable blessing!

Okay, can I get churchy on you for just one second? The Bible advocates partying in a crisis. Oh, yes it does! Psalm 23:5 says: “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.” That’s Israel’s King David celebrating the fact that in the middle of a war, God says “Time out!” and throws out a banquet spread. Awesome! Go find that bottle of wine you were saving for a special occasion.

Times are really hard, but is it ever as bad as we fear it will be? (I’m preaching to myself here.) What are you celebrating today?