Book-By-Book, Part 1

 Lately, I've been thinking a lot about my writing -- the books I've published and the ones I still hope to publish. Nothing dramatic or morbid -- just one of those contemplative periods that I hope will help me put things in perspective and establish new directions. 

One thing I'm terrible at is self-promotion. Aside from book launches, "getting the word out" is not my best thing and, based on the post below from 2009, this is not new. 

Stumbling across this particular post was a sort of synchronicity. Not only was it a bit nostalgic (and a reminder that some things don't seem to change much), but also because it gave me a great starting point for something I've been wanting to do: a book-by-book feature of my published works. So, to kick off this particular blog grouping, I give you my first two books. 

Because both of them were published by the same educational publisher (which has since been absorbed by another publisher), I decided to keep them lumped together as they were in the original post. Looking back on these books, I'm still proud of the work I did, and convinced that life is often, if not always, the best source of book material.

In December 2009, a good friend and colleague chided me -- gently, but with good reason -- about letting my published books wither on the vine. I had two books out at the time: Acting Assertively (published in 1999) and Diverse Divorce (published in 2004). Both were intended primarily for educators and copies sold mostly through the publisher's catalog. When the books first came out, I did the press releases and post cards but after a while, I was content to sit back and let them sell.

Or not.

Acting Assertively was the full-length victory lap. I'd been writing articles for a while, and was ready to make the leap and this book was the perfect bridge. The book grew out of classroom lessons I taught to my fourth and fifth graders and, though it was published in 1999, the principles are "evergreen" -- still sound for adults and kids alike. It was a great starting point because it provided an excellent model of an author (content)/editor (format) collaboration.

Diverse Divorce similarly arose from my work in schools, this time from a desire to create materials that could be used in the small groups I ran for children of divorce. The scenarios in the book represented a variety of family perspectives that adults could share with children to use as a discussion starter. The author/editor collaboration was less smooth on this one, which actually turned out to be a good thing; material that I'd originally intended for Diverse Divorce but that ended up on the cutting room floor, so to speak, sparked my first fiction projects.

Fortunately, my wake-up call from my friend arose from opportune circumstances: she had taken a seasonal job at Borders and had made it her personal quest to get my books into our local store. I was so grateful for her interest and persistence that it occurred to me only belatedly that perhaps I should have tried harder to champion my own work in the same way. It wasn't as though I hadn't made similar attempts, targeting mostly independent booksellers, but I'd had very limited success. Most of the time, I came away disappointed and disillusioned, and so I retreated into my safe little cave, putting book information on my website and adding copies to giveaway baskets and library collections. 

While no one wants be around an author who's always pushing the merchandise, it's still important to find ways to get the word out. Over time, new opportunities arise, and a wise author always keeps her eyes open.

Acting Assertively and Diverse Divorce are now out of print. Copies of both books and more information are available from the author. 

To get a taste of the kind of information in Acting Assertively, click here. For sample stories from Diverse Divorce, click here.

Reading and Writing and Recreation

 A few weeks ago, I bought two books. At first glance, they may seem unrelated, but, in reality, there’s a connection. I’ve often caught myself wasting time on my phone when I could be spending that time, writing or engaging in any other more worthwhile pursuits.

Sometimes, it’s a procrastination technique. Not ready to write because I’m too tired, too unmotivated, or just want to finish one more game on my phone, I while away too much time on a device that is not my laptop, focused on screens that are not my work in progress.

Let me be honest. I don’t really want to break up with my phone – I just want to use it more thoughtfully, which is why I bought Catherine Price‘s book (left). So far (and I’m only a couple of chapters in), I haven’t read anything I didn’t already know but, in fairness, I’ve read quite a bit on this topic. I like that Price’s book is a mix of why and how and I look forward to learning more about both of those aspects.

As for Daily Creative, the title and description mesh well with something that’s been a goal of mine for several years now – developing a more frequent practice of creativity in general and expanding my concept of what creativity is. I always have high hopes for books like these and, so far, not many have lived up to my hopes, although they’ve been helpful from the perspective of expanding my perspective.

I’m still in the early pages of both of these books and I’m pretty sure that there will be some skimming going on because of the prior knowledge that I bring to these readings. Still, I’m hoping that both books will serve as refreshers on their respective topics as well as inspiring a few new ideas and practices.

It’s a process.

Apparently It Has to Smell Good

 A few weeks ago, I wrote about being in search of an age-appropriate makeover. Though I’m hardly a contemporary of the young adults exploring this topic on social media, I thought it might be fun to share some of the good stuff I’ve found. Who knows? Maybe my contemporaries might find it useful, particularly since the only skin in the game is mine. I'm not trying to sell anything, nor am I on anyone's payroll.

I think it started with my search for the perfect foundation, one that is still ongoing. I don't dislike the one I'm using but I thought I might be able to do better. So, a few weeks ago, I ordered something new. I liked the results but it wasn't a keeper. In fact, it unexpectedly identified a parameter I hadn’t considered initially, one that turned out to be important to me.

The sensory experience. 

It didn’t stink, but it definitely had a smell to it, one that was vaguely (but not quite) medicinal and definitely off-putting. Because it took me too long to make a decision, I ended up keeping it, which isn’t entirely bad because the product itself has some merit, but I definitely won’t order it again. 

So far, this particular brand is one for three. I like their lipstick, especially its taste/smell (a touch of spearmint), though I wasn't initially sure about its texture either. As a result, I'll place future orders carefully. Another takeaway here is that, when it comes to foundation (and maybe lipstick as well), I might do better in a brick-and-mortar store where product samples can give me an idea of texture and fragrance. Come to think of it, I recently rejected another company lipstick because of its texture – it was too dry, making application unpleasant, and the end result less than flattering.

If you've noticed that I haven't named names, please understand that's an intentional choice. I'm happy to chat privately with anyone about brands, but I don't feel comfortable blasting negative reviews on the internet just because a product doesn't work for me. I'm happy, however, to give a shout out to products about which I have good things to say, but that has a caveat as well. When it comes to personal care products in particular, "good" or "bad" is purely a matter of taste. 

Speaking of good experiences, last fall my husband and daughter and I attended the National Apple Harvest Festival. I hadn’t been in probably 30 years and I remembered lots of food and crafts. but did not expect to stumble onto a new body butter, especially since  I’m not typically a fan of body butters. This one, however smells sooo good. I opted for the Beach Bum scent, (a departure from my usual vanilla), which I use mostly on my hands. The Apple Harvest Festival was last fall and last month, I ordered a second jar, having depleted the first one, which I fully expect to use up. I haven't yet tried their candles, but just saw that they have a Peach Mango Bellini soy candle. Hmm....

So often, we go in search of  something “new” or “better” without actually defining (or even knowing) what that means. Now, thanks to my latest explorations, I have a better sense of not only what I'm looking for but where to look for it as well. 

And the journey continues. :-)

The Bellini Tour

 Many of us have signature drinks, whether alcoholic or non-alcoholic. When I was in college, my go-to drink was a 7 & 7, though I frequently drank the free beer at fraternity parties. My dad likes his Captain & Coke and my mom's drink was an Amaretto on the rocks. I adopted that one for a time as well, and still order one from time to time. After we went to Ireland, my drink became an upgraded version of my college favorite as I substituted Jameson for the Seagrams. When I go out with long-friends, I can predict most of their drink orders with a high degree of accuracy.

Earlier this month, my family and I spent a few days in Manhattan. On one rainy night, we ended up at Friedman's, known for its gluten-free menu, a necessity for my daughter. The drink special that night was an apple cider Bellini, its rim dipped in honey and coated with sugar.

Yes, please. And then, yes, please again.

Thus began what I'm affectionately dubbing "The Bellini Tour," in which my drink of choice any time I go to a new restaurant is a Bellini.

At Friedman's, the Bellini was made with Prosecco (in keeping with the gluten-free theme, I suppose). It was delicious.

Since we've been back, I've ordered Bellinis at three different restaurants, each ironically a little worse than the one before. I didn't expect anything to be on par with those apple cider Bellinis I had in New York, but I also didn't realize how sub-par they might be elsewhere. 

At the first local restaurant, the drink was a reasonable facsimile of the one I had in New York, albeit not with apple cider, which was not a surprise since that was a particular twist in a particular restaurant. Last weekend, I tried a cranberry Bellini, which was good, although not quite as good as either of the two local drinks that preceded it.

Last night, I had a terrible peach Bellini and it was only after I got home and refreshed my memory on the ingredients that I realized the Prosecco had likely been replaced with champagne, leaving my drink tasting more like a mimosa than a Bellini. I only drank about half of it and enjoyed less of it than that.

So, what's the point here? Am I planning on starting a new career as a Bellini critic? I am not, but I am having fun with my taste tests. Although nothing I've had since I got home compares to those apple cider Bellinis in New York, hope springs eternal. Still, I was surprised that, fruit of choice notwithstanding, one drink could be so different from one place to another.

To be honest, I'm not sure how much of the enjoyment of that drink in New York was connected to location, company, and circumstances. None of these things influence taste, per se, but they do play a role in the overall enjoyment of the experience, something I've been unable to replicate so far.

As long as I'm having fun with my sampling, I see no reason to give it up (except at that last restaurant - yuck). Each sip, no matter the quality, is a small reminder of a chilly, rainy night that culminated in a fun dinner with my family and a delicious drink I look forward to having again.

Even if I have to go back to New York to make that happen.

(Photo courtesy of Peggy und Marco Lachmann-Anke via Pixabay)

Change

 Starbucks has changed their chai recipe -- substantially -- and I am not happy. My "usual," which has always been reasonably predictable in its flavor, is now a wild card as I conduct daily experiments to adjust the formula to my liking. At this point, I've gotten close, but only when I make substitutions that significantly drive up the cost of my beverage.

First world problem, I know. And if this is the worst thing I have to deal with, I'm exceedingly fortunate. But change is challenging, and disappointment is, well, disappointing.

By definition, change disrupts the status quo. This can be good, bad, or a combination of both. On the up side, it can lead us in novel and maybe even exciting directions, provide us with new opportunities, and make life better. On the down side, it can be uncomfortable, scary, and, yes, disappointing.

Several years ago, I decided to practice saying no. I had gotten so quick with my yeses that my schedule was overbooked and many of the the things that had made it onto my calendar were things for which I didn't have tremendous enthusiasm. So, I decided to really think before adding something new. 

Then COVID hit, and everything became a no. I'd had some practice by then, so those a lot of those nos were easier to cope with. 

But it took me a long time to come back to yes. Anxiety nurtured in isolation hung around for quite some time until "no" became my default. During this time, I (like everyone else) got older, and before I knew it, I'd reached an age where a lot of previous yeses felt less possible. 

This year, I decided to practice saying yes, this time with the wisdom gleaned from choosing my yeses a bit more discerningly. The motivation here had more to do with not aging prematurely than an actual need for change, although there was definitely at least a smattering of the latter.

Choosing change means embracing our fears -- or at least deciding which fears are more of an obstacle than a safety net. When my daughter was a teenager, I remember having a conversation with her about calculated risks; suddenly, I needed to apply that idea to myself.

Change can be simple. A new laundry detergent, route to work, or formula for an old favorite. Some changes inspire regret or disappointment, but others make things better. And often, the only way to know which is which is to take a leap of faith. My willingness to do just that has enriched my life with quite a few experiences in the past few months that have made it clear that even a scary yes can be a good thing.

As for the simpler change that is my chai, I don't know how much longer I'll have the patience to keep tinkering, especially since I could save a lot of money and calories by simply walking away. But all my yeses and nos have taught me that sometimes, growing pains are inevitable, and only we can decide whether or not the change is one worth making. Fortunately, most of the time, today's "no" can still turn into tomorrow's "yes" -- and vice versa. 

We just have to be willing to make the decision that works best for us.

 

A Few Brilliant Things

 Last Friday, I wrote about my recent trip to New York, including my solo adventure to see Daniel Radcliffe in Every Brilliant Thing. I came away from that experience with the reminder that life is full of brilliant things, and a renewed determination to take note of some of them. 

So, from time to time, I’m going to post a random "life is full of brilliant things" post, announced by the graphic at the top of this blog. Here’s a short list of some writing related brilliant things I’ve noticed lately.

1. Finding just the right notebook for the task at hand.

2. Finding just the right job for the notebook you probably shouldn’t have bought, but did anyway.

3. Finding the writing utensil that feels just right in your hand.

4. Discovering that the writing well is a bit deeper than you thought it was.

5. Meeting with a writing accountability partner who shares your joys and struggles.

6. Sunny days.

Want more? Check this out. :-) 

Want to share one? Leave me a comment! 

(Post inspired by #everybrilliantthing)