Category Archives: My 500 Words

A Collage of Words: Answering the Important Questions

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Today has been a strange day. I did not get nearly as much sleep as I need to function properly. It has snowed for most of the day, finally tapering off just a couple of hours ago, and I am groggy from an impromptu nap not long ago.

I am determined to finish this challenge of writing a minimum of 500 words every day but sincerely wish the “stick your hand in a bucket, grab some words, and throw them at the screen” schtick would stop. I’m writing because well, I have to write, not because I necessarily have anything to say or want to be writing. But, practice makes perfect and all that.

Tonight, in my struggle to come up with a topic, I asked my friends on FB for suggestions.

Conclusion? I have some weird but deep and awesome friends.

Here are their suggestions, in no particular order, phrased as quirky questions:

1) What do sheep have to do with toast?

There’s a girl with luscious red hair wearing a gorgeous cream-coloured crew neck Shetland sweater, riding pants, and riding boots. She shuffles about the kitchen, waiting for a whistle of the kettle as she slices some bread and pops it into the oven. Opening the refrigerator, she stares at the contents before reaching in and grabbing the butter. A faint whistle starts to fill the tiny kitchen. She removes the kettle from the stove-top, retrieves the bread from the oven and puts it on a plate. Then she grabs a cup, pours hot water into it, adds a tea back, and sits down at the table to savour a quick breakfast before a long day of sheep-herding.

2) Brain fog – how do you clear it?

There are plenty of theories on how to clear brain fog. Menial tasks, for one. Folding laundry, doing dishes, cleaning, cooking. Or one could go for a walk (of course, when the windchill factor is in the negative Fahrenheit zone, going for a walk is well, not wise), a hike (again, COLD), watch a movie, listen to music, take a nap, drink some coffee (although I wouldn’t recommend this at 10pm at night). Laugh. Laughter helps a lot. And I think someone named Hemingway drank a lot when he wrote but I don’t know if that helps with brain fog – I would think that increases it.

3) How do you accept your new self after a life-changing experience? 

Wow. We have a tough one here. Let go of the old you. Letting go is one of the most difficult things we ever do in life – letting go of ourselves, of our expectations, of living up to expectations others have of us. But until we shed these expectations, let go and start living, we are simply existing. Should we not have expectations? No. But we should not allow our past to hold us back from becoming the person we are meant to be. Life is fluid and like the trees, we need to learn to sway in even the strongest of gusts without breaking. And if we do break, it’s okay, we will sow seeds and grow into something even stronger. It’s not easy to accept your new self after a life-changing experience because we want to go back to that which is familiar but sometimes, we just can’t go back and instead must embrace that which is new.

4) Can one ever really go home again?

Yes and no. You can physically go home again but as I just stated in the previous question, you’ve changed because life is fluid. Things may be the same but you are different. This question reminds me of this past summer and finally returning to the Jersey Shore after moving away when I was a teenager. Since then, I too, like the shore, had been through so very much. But also like the shore, I too have rebuilt. We are both stronger after our storms, and will persevere no matter what is thrown at us. The final answer to this question is a firm yes and yet also a firm no.

5) How do you lose your regrets?

First, you wrap them all in a box and then you ship them to Papua New Guinea with no return address. But seriously. You live life fluidly. You let go, you learn to say yes or no with conviction. You own your actions, good or bad. Regrets are one of those things you give yourself permission to have, just like guilt or jealousy. Refuse to allow regrets into your life. That’s how you lose regrets. By living boldly and running headfirst into new experiences, reaching deep into the area outside your comfort zone.

Write Like Hell

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I have 15 minutes left to meet today’s deadline. That’s…let’s see… 900 seconds.

Why did I wait until the last minute to write again? Because today was crazy busy and this morning, the muse was not visiting. She was off somewhere, cavorting with my coffee fairy because she forgot to bring me coffee this morning while I made delicious sourdough pancakes.

After clearing the table, I sat down at the computer, music blasting through headphones as I checked in with some of my #PPDChat mamas. Then I attempted to brainstorm this evening’s topic for our chat – that didn’t work so I used the Sheldon approach toward solving issues – mindless chores/work. I folded laundry.

Didn’t work but I got the laundry folded. That’s a win, right?

This afternoon was filled with errands, lunch, a quick jaunt to the bookstore, another errand, then a Skype call, run to the grocery store, dinner, chat and then TV with the goal of writing whilst watching. It’s nearly two hours later and I’m shy of 200 words with 10 minutes before midnight.

I am facing defeat here.

I have managed to write 500 words every single day this month, the most I have written since before my divorce. It has been lovely even if all of it has not been share-worthy. The mental exercise of writing every day is transforming me much like a Jillian exercise video would transform my abs if I would just garner the energy to tear the plastic wrap off the outside of the DVD.

I am doing that too, getting back into exercising, something I have written about recently. At one point, I brainstormed a post examining similarities between swimming at the gym and the art of writing. They’re both terribly similar, really.

Writers compare themselves to other writers. We hide in our skins, in our caves built of our own words, thinking that we are not as good as those who have managed to build mansions out of their words. It’s okay though, because we all have to start somewhere and it is much easier to build a cave first, isn’t it?

Writers have different styles. We come in all shapes, sizes, and levels of quirkiness. We do what works for us. Apparently for me, I like to wait until the last minute to get my writing done because well, there’s nothing like last minute pressure to get things done, right? (It’s the way my entire day has felt for some reason – hurried and rushed. I am SO looking forward to a more relaxed day tomorrow!)

Writers have different goals. Some of us may want to build that mansion on top of the hill. Others may be perfectly happy living in that cave we have fashioned out of the thesaurus. Both are perfectly fine. Write for you. Write from the heart. Be authentic. Be bold. Put it out there. Don’t put it out there. But write if that’s what your heart yearns for you to do. It won’t be happy if you shove it in the corner.

Because we all know… nobody puts Baby in the corner, right?

Just like that, with 60 seconds to go, I have 500 words.

G’night, y’all.

On Helping Others

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“How do you help all the women you do and not carry their pain with you?” asked my therapist as we sat in her office a little over two years ago.

“I don’t know. I just do.” I fidgeted slightly as I readjusted in the chair, popping my neck and a few vertebrae as I did so.

“But day in and day out, you are seeing people at their worst and helping them solve their problems. How do you manage to do that without internalizing it?” she rephrased, pushing me to answer.

“How do you do it?” I answered her push with a question.

“Nice try. You’re good at deflecting, aren’t you?”

I smiled and recrossed my legs, staring back at her.

“It’s an art, really. As for how I don’t carry their pain and issues with me, I just don’t. Their issues are not mine. I have fought my battles, I am fighting my battles, and I leave their battles to them. I learned, from fighting my own battles, that I cannot fight anyone else’s battles for them. They have to fight them. All I can do is point them in the right direction and hand them the right tools. That’s my job. That’s where it ends.”

“So you have never had a situation that shook you?”

“Of course. Haven’t you?”

“Yes. The difference is that….”

“You’re a trained professional and I am not?”

“Well, no. Perhaps. It is just that it takes a lot to be able to listen to issues day in and day out and not get worn down by that. Given that you are here and still helping other people, it is my job to make sure you are taking care of yourself.”

“I am. I know when to step away. I have people I can hand things off to if they get too intense and I know that I am not equipped to handle crises. I also have people I debrief with after any situation which involves a crisis – people check on me which is wonderful. I am peer support only, something I make very clear to anyone who reaches out to me.”

We wrapped things up shortly thereafter, this particular session not nearly as rough as the one where she pushed me to consider whether or not I had ever shown my true self to anyone at all including myself. But this session left me deep in thought too, which is what a therapy session is supposed to leave you doing – thinking about your issues in a constructive manner instead of just wallowing & ruminating.

Sometimes I would go hiking after my sessions. Other times, I would go for a long drive, music blasting, the windows down. I wish I could say I remembered what I did after this session but I don’t because frankly, the after sessions blurred together.

The discussion in this session though, is one that we can all learn from. While not everyone is actively helping stranger after stranger through what some consider to be the worst time of their lives (most of us who have been through a Perinatal Mood Disorder kindly call it hell), it is important to remember that when we are helping others to not allow their pain to become our own. It is possible to be compassionate without tucking someone else’s pain into a pocket in your own heart. Difficult, but possible. It is also important to know your own emotional limits. Do not ever sacrifice your own emotional well-being for someone else if you can help it. (Remember the whole your glass must be full in order to give to others rule here.)

My goal, when someone reaches out to me for help, is to empower them to deal with their issues on their own with help that is much closer (and far more professional). This should be your goal as well if you are a fellow advocate or a non-professional. Educate, empower, release. I follow up, of course, and some of the folks end up being pretty good friends, but most of the time, it is a catch and release sort of contact. It’s something I’ve grown to expect.

With each person I help, my own personal hell loses just a little more of its darkness, shoving me further into the light, allowing me to help even more people.

No woman or family should ever have to struggle through a Perinatal Mood Disorder alone. This is why I do what I do and why I will never stop.

Because every single one of us matters to someone out there.

Making Small Moments Matter

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There is no inspiration like a deadline for a writer.

I’m up against a personal one at the moment. I don’t have to sit here and write for anyone beside myself. But yet, I dragged myself out of bed because I realized I had not yet written my 500 words for the day.

Know what I did instead?

I had a great day.

I woke up at 8ish, and as the world came into focus, I noticed snow had covered the world outside just enough to turn everything white. I got up and opened the blinds all the way to savor the crisp white landscape greeting me. After crawling back into bed,  my boyfriend completely surprised me and brought coffee upstairs. We sat there, the two of us, his daughter still asleep, and talked as we stared out the windows at the snowy scape.

As we chatted, the snow began to fall again. Softly at first, then it increased to the point that the houses across the field were barely visible. A knock at the door let us know his daughter was awake and he left to go downstairs with her.

I got dressed and made myself breakfast. We would be heading to the gym soon and I did not want a full stomach when I got into the pool.

They ate shortly after I did and then we all got ready to head to the gym.

One of my favourite things about swimming is the meditative quality of the water. Sometimes, I do entire laps with my eyes shut – on purpose. I focus on the movement of the water around my body and the grace of gliding. Today was my third day in a row back at the gym. I had stopped for multiple reasons but am glad I am going back. It is a slow start, much like this writing has been.

When we got home, the girl and I made marshmallows. She read the ingredients and the directions, eagerly wanting to taste each and every ingredient. The only one she did not like was the dab of vanilla extract (which, let’s face it, isn’t delicious until it’s been added to something anyway).

As we prepared the cornstarch & powdered sugar to coat the casserole dish the marshmallows would rest in, we happened to accidentally get into a snow fight inside and somehow ended up with it all over ourselves, laughing like the happiest of fairies the entire time. Cleaning up the mess wasn’t annoying at all (the old me would have never done something like this). She was blissfully happy at tasting the marshmallow fluff and proudly took a spoonful up to her dad for him to taste.

It’s tiny moments like these which took up my entire day and are the reason that I am sitting here, in the dark, listening to When Doves Cry by Prince, typing like mad into WordPress to make my personal deadline of writing 500 words before midnight.

Like going to the gym, I need to get back into writing every day. So far, I have done just that with my words. I have also been okay with just WRITING and not organizing. Hitting publish even if I am not sure that it’s something I want out there.

A life is meant to be lived and you should do what you are called to do. For me, that’s writing. This month, all these words which have poured forth have been therapeutic. After my divorce, I stopped writing prolifically. I felt I had nothing to say or no right to say what needed to say because I was an absolute wreck. Turns out, I have a lot to say. I just had a lot of internal bullshit to wade through first. I may still be wading through it but that’s okay too. Because we are all just human and we all have our own bullshit to wade through.

What matters is that you get it out and have people to share your bullshit with – even if they just sit there and wrap an arm around you, saying nothing at all because sometimes? Sometimes that’s exactly what you need.

Other times, however, exactly what you need is a snowstorm in the kitchen with a child.

That’s exactly what I needed today.

And now? Now I’m going to sleep.

G’night, y’all.

 

The Writer’s Life – A Few Thoughts

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Being a writer is hard work, yo.

We pour our hearts and souls into our work, sell our souls to pay the bills, and hope like hell that all our tampering with words means something to someone somewhere. We subject ourselves to criticism every time we hit publish or send to submit something.

Brace Yourselves Criticism is Coming

That criticism is no longer in the form of blood all over papers submitted in high school or college. No, it’s widespread and typed all over the Internet, sometimes in Comic Sans (shudders). Some people limit it to just the piece which set them off. Others hunt you down on Social Media and tear you a new one for promoting a view with which they disagree. Some try to be helpful and email you or message you about errors in your piece (I actually appreciate that provided it’s not accompanied by “and while you’re fixing your mistake, if you’d add my link” because just no.)

As writers, we are mostly responsible for our own promotions. We cannot simply fling things out into the universe and expect people to promote them for us. Sometimes things may click and spread. But most of the time, it will just sit there, dormant, waiting to be discovered. It’s all about what you DO with your writing that makes it relevant.

I am absolutely guilty of flinging things out into the universe and waiting for something to happen. Then I learned that I have to get behind it and push it – like a car that won’t start. You have to MAKE it start and sometimes that means pushing…hard. If there is one thing I wish I was better at, it’s self-promotion. Improving my self-promotion skills is one of my goals for 2014.

My friend, Pauline, wrote a fabulous piece over at her blog, Aspiring Mama, entitled “Two Rules for Literary Fame.” You should go read it. Literary fame, contrary to popular belief, does not just happen overnight. Even the biggies got rejection notices. Here’s a non-exhaustive list of Best-Sellers which were initially rejected.

Guess who’s on that list? Dr. Seuss, Judy Blume, J.D. Salinger, C.S. Lewis, Beatrix Potter, L.M. Montgomery, Margaret Mitchell, L. Frank Baum, Ayn Rand, Jack Kerouac, George Orwell, Herman Melville….and many more. You get my point, right?

In this day and age, self-publication is easier than ever. Write, upload, market, MONEY & FAME. Boom, right? Not really.

You still have to deal with promotion to get to money. In order to get to money, you need to play nice because if you don’t, bad things can happen and the money will never happen. Money doesn’t just waltz right in the door. You have to WORK for it. There is a right way to promote and then there is a terribly wrong way to promote.

First, you are probably cold-emailing people you do not know based on a list, a Google Search, or goodness knows what else if you haven’t taken the time to build up an audience first. All you know about them is based on what they have shared on their blog or their public Social Media Accounts. You try to be friendly and social. Zone in on something which interests them, state an offer, keep your email short. Then, the fun part – waiting for a response. Most of the people you email won’t respond. But the ones that do are the ones you need to connect with because they see some value in what you have to offer.

This is where things can go horribly wrong. They can also go horribly wrong when you write your initial email if you don’t keep it short.

Here are my rules for initial marketing contact based on a recent experience:

1) Keep contact short and simple. The KISS Method. It’s fabulous. Greeting, connection, the goal of your email, what form your book is in and when it releases, a FEW quotes from your book, offer, closing. BAM. Do NOT assume the person you are emailing has all the time in the world to read your email, even if you know them well. SHORT AND SIMPLE. Think Flash Fiction vs. Epic Novel. Always, always go with flash fiction. An elevator pitch format works wonderfully here.

2) If you get a response which asks questions and/or criticizes your initial email because you’ve failed to follow rule #1, suck it up, answer the questions, and work through it to get your book out there. Respond negatively and you will lose that connection.

3) Not responding at all to someone who is an obviously an ass or ignorant is perfectly acceptable. Not responding (or responding negatively) to someone who has asked legitimate questions and offered constructive criticism is a huge no-no and ends up a lot like, well, this blog post being written about you.

Now, am I advocating that you have to put up with assholes on your way to literary fame? Absolutely not. If someone responds and they are clearly a dick, then don’t bother responding at all because well, integrity and all that. But if you get a response and they clearly are offering constructive criticism as well as showing an interest in your book, you best be responding to them in a positive manner. If you cannot handle constructive criticism via email, then you, sir, are no writer.

Not just anyone can be a writer, you know.

Getting your work in front of people takes more work than actually writing the words. You have to have the balls to spill your soul, the chutzpah promote yourself, the guts to take rejection, and the stamina to stand back up after being punched in the gut over to do it all over again the next day.

Think you can handle that?

If so, then welcome to the writer’s world. It’s a tough job but someone has to do it.

Coffee? Thesaurus? Nap? Chocolate? YouTube Videos of cats? Wine?

No, you’re good? Alrighty, then.

Go forth. Write. You know, after you’re done staring at the blank screen as if you’ve just seen Perry the Platypus dance like Christopher Walken across your screen. Deadline is in an hour.

GO.