Thanksgiving Eve in Starbucks Cafe

 When COVID hit, my habit of grabbing my laptop and running to Starbucks to work on writing projects fell apart. Post-COVID, I continued to avoid public places to a large degree, feeling as though my work at a college gave me plenty of potential exposure to all sorts of things.

Chai addict that I am, I continued to patronize my local Starbucks via the drive through, even coming to enjoy the days when the line was long because it gave me time to listen to an audiobook or maybe even squeeze in a quick French lesson on Duolingo. A lovely side benefit of these trips was connecting with the baristas, who came to know me first by my drink, then by my name, and I learned to put their names to the voices emanating from the speaker as well.

I stuck to the drive-through for a good long time, getting a quick jolt of socializing with the baristas before heading home to my bright, unpopulated sunroom. I wasn't avoiding the café as much as choosing to go home, get comfortable and work in the quiet.

Today, my house was busy. My daughter was working from home (from the sunroom) and my husband was working through a self-imposed list of chores. Though I hadn't intended to do work, per se, I felt a need to carve out a space away from what felt like chaos on a day where I'd been hoping for tranquility. As I got ready to make my Starbucks run, I decided it was the perfect time not to run at all, but to instead pack up my laptop and claim a table in the café.

In the end, my daughter opted to join me, and we spent more time coming up with Christmas gift ideas than actually working, but that was just fine. I chatted in person with the baristas I usually see just through a window, and tried one of the new Christmas drinks (I'll stick with my chai, thanks). But, most of all, I hung out with one of my favorite people in one of my favorite places without worrying about what I should be doing instead.

It was a pretty nice way to spend a chunk of Thanksgiving Eve, leaving me considering (once again) how the little things are often quite big things after all.

Fabulous Fall

 I love fall, although my allergies don't share my sentiment. The colors, the crispness, the clothes. Sweaters, sweatshirts, well-worn jeans, and soft leggings -- the stuff of comfort and coziness, contrasting with the crispness and bite of the air outside. Fall has been playing hide-and-seek with us this month, but the small taste we've gotten leaves me hungry for more. My chair in our sunroom gives me a front-row seat to the best and worst of each season, but the changing colors of autumn bring a variety to each day rivaled only by the bursting buds of spring.

When we were out to visit my daughter last month, she pointed to a tree and said, "That's my favorite red." I remember her doing this once before when she was in college, and I find it fascinating that her favorite color is one found only in nature, in a particular season. No crayon, paint color, or article of clothing quite makes the cut in the same way. 

With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I'm hoping fall decides to join us on a more long-term basis. Meanwhile, I'm going to make it a point to look up and enjoy the colors of the leaves on the bounty of trees that flank the road I drive to work. They are, indeed, breathtaking, and I want to be careful not to miss the opportunity to soak in their beauty before those same branches are bare and/or covered in snow. 

What says fall to you?

Hope

 Today, a much-desired outcome slipped from my grasp, leaving instead a choice I not only didn't want, but also feared. A choice with potentially dire outcomes and repercussions beyond my little corner of the world. 

But I still have hope. It's tiny -- a wisp of a thing, really -- seemingly hard to grasp and easy to lose. 

And, to tell the truth, it is both.

But it's mine. And, unless I relinquish it, it stays with me. It comforts me, brings me perspective, and reminds me that while my peace of mind can be disrupted, it cannot be corrupted unless I allow that to happen.

An illusion, you say. Perhaps even a delusion?

Maybe. But I believe hope is as real as I make it. 

By itself, hope cannot effect a change, turn back a clock, or change an outcome. But it can help me effect a change, find light in the darkness, or make a change. It can extend a hand, pull me out of the quicksand, and remind me that one outcome determines neither my power nor my value.

And so I will hope. Relentlessly. I will nurture that tiny wisp of a thing, clinging on to it stubbornly even if -- especially if -- someone tries to wrest it away. I will use it as fuel on the days when I cannot muster up enough power to drag myself out of the muck and onto dry land.

Though it is small, it is powerful -- immune to dissolution through tears, anger, or criticism -- and always large enough to be shared.

And I will gladly share mine with you.

Why My Writing is Floating Downstream with Me Doggy Paddling Along Behind It

  Spoiler alert: As I type this, I don't know the answer to the dilemma posed in this title. But two weeks ago, I stumbled onto a potential solution.  

It worked! And then it didn't. 

In other words, it was a good starting point, with potential to both solve the problem and run into roadblocks.

Either way, I've been loving the book that inspired it: Still Writing, by Dani Shapiro. When I paged through it in my local bookstore, I thought it would be an interesting read. Almost immediately, it was so much more. Part validation, part inspiration, it reminded me that when I run into roadblocks, there are likely to be other writers standing just a few feet away, trying to figure out how to get around the same obstacle.

I've been dipping into Still Writing for the past two weeks, an essay or two at a time. I've also been listening to student presentations on chapters of Katy Milkman's How to Change, chapters that focus on creating habits, being flexible, and giving oneself grace. Together, these two books have definitely influenced the kinder, gentler approach I'm taking as I work on another of my favorite task: setting monthly goals.

Since today is the beginning of a new month, I worked on my goals, tracking my successes for October and establishing priorities for November. And, as you can imagine, writing goals are always part of the plan. The ones I set today are less confining and more in keeping with the idea that writing is a roller coaster. Some days, I'm ready to do the long, slow climb up the hill; other days, I want to fly down the other side, unencumbered by the hard parts, enjoying the ride. Both have value.

Whether we're talking rides or writing.

The Writing News that Isn't Really News

 Whenever I hit a writing slump, I worry that it's permanent. This post from 2022 reminds me that this, too, shall pass. 

At least I hope so. 

Lately, writing has been more challenging for me than usual. A combination of life changes (an all-too-sudden re-emptied nest) and work obligations have put both concentration and time at a premium. I'm finding this especially frustrating in a semester where, on paper, I was supposed to have fewer work obligations than usual.

So much for the best-laid plans.

Tonight, as I sit here trying to craft a blog post much too late in the evening, I find myself thinking about my writer's wish list (and not for the first time). Writing is easiest when I have...

Time. Not just any time -- prime time. That time of day when the brain is at its peak and thoughts flow easily instead of having to be jump-started every thirty seconds. 

An open schedule. To be honest, this is both good and bad. Too much time makes procrastination a real possibility. Too little time and it's easy to give up when the going gets tough. But when time feels expansive, creativity is more likely to follow.

A clear head. Lately, I've had so much going on that even when I get to my writing at a decent time of day, I find it hard to focus. When I take a few minutes to re-focus, things go much more smoothly.

Cool supplies. There's nothing like the perfect notebook or a just-right pen to provide just the right touch of inspiration.

A work space that works. Not too cluttered, not too noisy and not too distracting. Just right.

The perfect project. Currently, I have multiple projects going. I'm a mood-driven writer, so it's nice to be able to choose the one that seems just right for the time and mental space I have available.

Very few writers have the perfect set-up on a regular basis, especially if "writer" is only one of the hats they wear. But, oh, on those days when it all comes together....

...there are so many possibilities. 

Habit

 To say my writing isn't going well is an understatement. The fact is, it's really not going.

At all.

Now, before any of my kind-hearted friends jump in to console, rationalize, or advise, please let me stop you. I've done all of these things already. 

None of them solve the problem.

Yes, it's true that my schedule is busy. Yes, it's true that my job isn't one I can leave at the office. Yes, it's  true that my job and my writing both draw from the same well of creativity, and that well isn't limitless. Yes, it's true that my main project right now involves revising and submitting, which are my least favorite parts of this writing gig.

But these are issues that many (if not all) writers face. And they go on to write books anyway. 

Identifying these obstacles doesn't solve the problem, but it takes me a bit closer. To solve a problem, after all, one needs to identify it, along with potential solutions.

One afternoon last week (when I could have been writing), I took advantage of the beautiful day and the flexibility of my work schedule to go downtown. I had an order to pick up at one of the stores, which just happened to be across the street from an independent bookstore.

Of course I had to go in.

Although they didn't have the book I was looking for, they had plenty of others. I hate to leave a bookstore (especially a small, independent bookstore) empty-handed, so I came home with two new books and a fun new must-have item. (More on that in my next Friday Feature).

One of the books was a book about writing. 

With few exceptions, I've never been a big fan of writing prompts, how-to books, or books about writing, but this slim volume of reflections appealed to me -- so much so that I had to dip into it last night. And, as long as I was being out of character, I skipped the beginning and picked a section in the middle that looked interesting. (And then I went back to the beginning. I'm not a savage).

As a counselor and a psychology instructor, I have a bit of a tendency to overcomplicate and overanalyze, especially when things aren't going well. (See the writing issues/excuses/rationalizations above). But reading those few pages last night opened a window and, this morning, the ideas just kept showing up.

Was there a magical solution in the pages of that book? Nope. Just a simple description of the writing life of a published author that sounded a lot like mine. Sit down to write. Get distracted. Get back to work. Get distracted again. Succumb to said distraction. Return to work. 

This author writes for a living, with established hours. There's no day job to work around -- this is her job -- and yet there's no magical productivity fairy who shows up and ensures that the books get written. She is the one who has to show up.

I don't know whether it was the sunshine, the walk, the book, or some combination thereof, but overnight, the simplicity of the solution became crystal clear.

Show up. Make it a habit. Accept that some days will be joyous and others will be frustrating because that's the way a job works, whether it's writing or teaching or acting or plumbing. 

And that is okay.

My day job, like pretty much everyone else's, is a mix of creativity and extroverting, drudgery and detail, all of which are draining. This is not a complaint or even an excuse (although I've definitely used it as the latter). It's a fact of life -- of my life.  

So, what am I gonna do about it? 

I'm going to show up. I'm going to do the simple thing I do for everything else I need -- or want -- to do. I'm going to put it on my list, slot it into my calendar, make an appointment with myself and keep it.

The thing is, it's not that hard to get back into a habit. 

At least not as long as you want to.

The Positives of Promotion

 Unlike most of my Way Back Wednesday posts, this one hasn't already appeared here. I wrote it almost ten years ago for an online publication. I'm not even sure if it actually ran, but I do know that right now, book promotion seems like a topic from way back, so that made it a good fit for today.

I'm one of those crazy writers who enjoys promotion. I don't like the time it takes away from working on my next book, but I decided early on that if I couldn't escape marketing and publicity (and I can't), I might as well have fun with those aspects of the author life. So, through a combination of research and experience, I've developed three rules for promoting a book.

• Make it novel -- no pun intended (well, maybe a little). I love bookstores. The fact that they're full of readers makes them a great, if predictable, place to have a book event. But they're also full of books, which means it can be hard for a newbie or independently published author to stand out. Choosing less typical locales for book events not only makes you (and your book) stand out, but it also keeps things interesting. How can you connect your book to an interesting place that might also attract readers who would appreciate your particular story?

• Make it meaningful. Anyone who knows me knows I love Starbucks, and my friends know that my local Starbucks has, at times, been my office away from home. So, when some of the work I created there made it into print, it seemed like a great place to have a party. (Sometimes it helps to be a regular). Not only did this plan fulfill rule #1 above, but the location (and the people who work there) meant something to me, which meant the whole event felt like a natural extension of who I am and what I love. Though I went on to have more signings and events, most of them lots of fun, the first one, held at my "home" Starbucks, remains special. When you think of celebrating your book, what small touch or simple detail would make the celebration meaningful for you?

• Make it fun. I figured out early on that if creating promotional events and ideas feels like drudgery to me, the events will feel like drudgery to attendees as well. Sure, I mumbled and grumbled as I was making up gift baskets for one of my harebrained schemes, but that was just my perfectionism rearing its ugly head. And I had to stifle a few groans as I added up the cost of the giveaways for my online launch party, but then I reminded myself how much fun I had coming up with prizes that complemented the book both thematically and visually. Everybody loves a good party. How can you make yours fun for you and your guests?

If you can remember that book parties, promotions, and events are meant to be celebrations and celebrations are meant to be fun, it makes it easier to embrace the publicity monster with both arms. And, when you stop to think about how much of yourself you pour into the creation of a book, can you think of anything better to celebrate?