"You Worry about Youself"

Photo via Ryan Hunley from YouTube

As either a parent or a kid, at sometime in your life I'm betting you have either said or had said to you something comparable to one or more of the following:

• If Jimmy jumped off a bridge would you follow him?
• I'm not Sally's mom
• You've got plenty of lumps in your own potatoes (one of my mom's favorites). Similar sentiments include things such as "since when is your garden free of weeds" and the biblical oldie but goody "Let he without sin cast the first stone".

Last night I caught myself leveling the "You worry about yourself and let your sister and me worry about her" variation of this. The momism fling occurred in reply to my four-year-old daughter's insistence that her sixteen-year-old sister should have to go to bed at the same time as her so that she's not cranky.

And that's when I had an aha moment and realized maybe I should be taking my own advice.

As my day had worn on, I had hit a place where I felt overwhelmed with the tasks in front of me. Not because I couldn't accomplish them, but more because I felt like even if I did them, it probably wouldn't matter. The conversation in my head went something along the lines of the following:

• OMG. My twitter feed fills up with 1000+ tweets a second. I bet everyone else's does too. Nothing I say is going to get through that noise
• Another link reminding me that even if I did finish or publish my book there are 300,000 novels published every year. How will anyone ever find mine?
• Do you know how many established blogs there are out there? Why would anyone read mine!
• Great, another update on google's algorithm. No recognition for guest posting now. No one is ever going to find me.
• The majority of businesses still fail within in the first five years and there are more businesses being started now than at any time in history.
• This one article alone list 35+ places I should be delivering content to. I will never keep up.
• Sigh. "So and so Queen of my occupation" is so much better than I am. What am I doing?

I'm sure you have some variation of this self pity party that you play in your head sometimes too. As we look around at the vast activity that happening in the social media space, it's easy to get lost in the feeling that we will never break through all the noise and be heard. Whether we're starting a new business, launching a new book or other creative endeavor, the fight for discovery and recognition is the same.

Of course, the answer to all of these self doubts is "so what, what are you going to DO about it?" You've chosen to do whatever it is you're doing. Hopefully, you've put together a plan to support your ultimate goal. None of the above sentiments, even if they are all true, will get you any closer to reaching said goal.

That's not to say that you shouldn't review your plan or where you are in regards to your competition. Self awareness is important. Realistically, though, you don't have a lot of options. The only choices you have are to quit, change your strategy or work harder on the one you have. 

And, if you notice, all of those options are personal decisions as well. No one in the great "out there" is going to make that choice for you. So in the end, there's really only one thing we can do:

"You worry about you."

If you are feeling overwhelmed by the vastness of the universe and your place in it, like no matter how much you try to push the rock up the hill you just don't seem to be moving it at the same pace as everyone else, STOP. 

Put on the blinders. Work your plan. You worry about you. And the rest will take care of itself.

One Size Does Not Fit All

I am afflicted with what is referred to in urban slang as Jesus toes (no offense intended to my Christian friends), or, more clinically, as Morton toes, where my second toe is larger than my first. And not just by a bit. It is head and shoulders above the rest.

What this means in practical terms (besides the fact that if I ever lose a finger, I'm golden) is I am forever having to buy new socks (because sock makers expect girls' feet to slant) and that there are some high heels I can never ever wear, despite how much I covet them.

No one ever thinks that socks, beyond the basic sizes, are not a "one size fits all" item. People assume they are ubiquitous.

Similarly, people often assume that there is a one size fits all system for accomplishing big goals like writing the great American novel, losing weight or starting a business.

I had someone tell me yesterday that if I wasn't writing everyday, I wasn't serious about my writing.

To this well intended person I say - What a bunch of bunk! My foot will never fit in that shoe. And thankfully, after years of foot ache, I have learned that, and now, despite how tempting it sounds, I resist the slingbacks with the shiny buckle.

I'm sure you've heard it all before, too - You must write everyday. You must have a word goal. You must eliminate adverbs...

And it's not just writers who hear these things. Anyone trying to accomplish something, from starting a business to losing weight, will hear similar advice.

It starts innocently. When attempting a complicated new path, we naturally read everything we can, eager to not repeat mistakes of the successful people before us. Over time and the internet (because if you read it on the internet it must be true), that beginners advice becomes instantiated as a law.

But one size does not fit all. We are each built with different metabolisms, productivity and creativity engines and feet.

Whether you are on a journey to a smaller waist line or moving people with your prose, there is no one thing that everyone must do to be successful. Anyone who tells you otherwise is full of bananas.

In my post on how to stop your yo-yo writing diet, I noted the importance of having a system for fitting writing into your daily life, and that's something I firmly stand behind.

But your system and my system may not look anything alike. You need a system that will work best with your style, that supports your strengthens and curbs your weaknesses. For some people, even that won't work for them. They need to be free of the pressure of a system or plan to create well.

The key is to learn what shoes hurt your feet, or in this case, what writing adages do and don't work best for you.

The road to productivity and creativity is paved with self discovery.

So, for anyone who needs permission from the internet, here you go - You may not write everyday. You may not ever have a word count goal. You may be an adverb loving fool with Jesus toes who will never be able to wear the beautiful Manolo Blahniks.

Writer friends, what writing adages have you found most and least helpful? Post them up in the comments.

A change you can believe in: 3 Tips for Managing a Move, Change or Transition

Over 40 million people in this country move each year. This year, I was one of them.

Our cat won’t poop because it’s in a strange place. 

There wasn’t room in the car on moving day for her old litter box so we bought her another and now she won’t poop.

I feel like my constipated cat. 

My house is full of boxes. My bras are all missing and I don’t know where my favorite pair of boots are. The new backyard looks like something off of that show “After Humans” with its several months of untended overgrowth.

There is no coffee joint within a fifteen mile radius.

And, then, unpacking, I found the below. It's a teapot that sits on a cup with a great message. I've had it forever, a gift from the husband from another move.

I know moving is good. Moving is best. For my physical health as well as my mental well being. 

But change is still…change.

So here are 3 tips for dealing with change for my 40 million movers-in-arms

Tip 1: Advice from Curly - Find Your One Thing

Find one thing to make "normal" for yourself. For me, I have to have one room that is completely box free and looks like someone happily lives there. For you it might be finding that one place in town that serves the pumpkin spice latte you used to get back home (if you do please share)

Tip 2: Say Hello Until They Say It Back

Every morning in Under The Tuscan Sun, the old man brought flowers. Every morning she would try to say hello, needing the connection. Every morning he would ignore her. Until he didn't. Eventually even ignoring an action becomes part of a routine signaling you have arrived.

Tip 3: Be Patient

Growing roots takes times. But with persistence and patience we can all bloom where we are planted.

How do you manage through tough transitions? Share your secrets in the comments!

How You May Be Like the Metal Band the Scorpions

I had a whole other blog post planned for this week, but when I saw this article about the best hair metal bands of all time, snubbing both the Scorpions and Def Leppard I had to interrupt my regularly scheduled post. 

Now, I’ve previously mentioned my borderline obsession with the Scorpions in my "10 Things About Me" section. (no worries guys, I’m Still Lovin You!) So, to me, the article was tragic on that level. What the heck was the LA Weekly thinking – Hanoi Rocks in the #1 spot, seriously! <Face palm>

But their misguided list was also a good reminder that taste in any art is so subjective. I’m currently working with several authors on their agent queries and manuscripts, many of whom are frustrated at the constant subjective nature of their rejections. When I queried I got over 30 “not right for me” responses. I also got requests to read my full manuscript and eventually offers for representation. That makes me lucky. I cleared the first hurdle of traditional publishing. I’m now back in the game, on submission, waiting for those similar “not right for me” responses to roll in from the big publishers, crossing my fingers and hoping the stars line up right for my book.

If they don’t, though, I won’t be giving up.

While cleaning out my mom’s house after she passed away,we found tons of old poems and essays. They were good. At the very least they had something to say. But instead of them being seen and appreciated, they were locked away in a box.

Thankfully, this is not my mother’s era anymore. As most of you are aware, the publishing industry is in the midst of either a revolution or a civil war (depending on your perspective). Even though I’m an avid reader, I’m new to understanding the writing market place, so I hadn’t yet really formed an opinion.

Finding my mother’s stories shifted that. With the plethora of publishing options these days, there is no reason for stories with something to say to be locked away in a box for children to find when the author dies. And if you are really committed to writing for a living, then, as Kristine Rusch tells us, self publishing is a must in your toolbox.

That’s not to say I think everyone should rush out and self-publish or that the self-published world doesn't have some things to figure out to ensure that published stories find the audience that might be out there for them. Marketing is hard. Writers have to do the right things to ensure their stories are audience ready (like copy editing for peats sake) and honing their craft.

But if you've done all of that only to find yourself without an in into traditional publishing (or singing or art) and you believe that what you have to offer has an audience, you should find an alternative outlet.

There’s this scene from Sister Act 2 between Whoopi Goldberg an a reluctant choir singer that sometimes goes through my head as I’m reading my rejections:

Whoopi: I know you want to sing. See. I love to sing. Nothing makes me happier. I either wanted to be a singer or the head of the Ice Capades. Hey. Do you know who the Ice Capades are? Don't roll your eyes. They were very cool. I went to my mother who gave me this book...called Letters To A Young Poet. Rainer Maria Rilke. He's a fabulous writer. A fellow used to write to him and say: "I want to be a writer. Please read my stuff." And Rilke says to this guy: "Don't ask me about being a writer. lf when you wake up in the morning you can think of nothing but writing...then you're a writer. "I'm gonna say the same thing to you. If you wake up in the mornin' and you can't think of anything but singin' first...then you're supposed to be a singer.

So screw the LA Times Weekly who thinks LA Guns is better than Whitesnake. Go Poor Some Sugar on It and Rock It Like a Hurricane - keep writing, painting, singing and most of all – Go find your audience, the people who love you as much as I love the Scorpions even if the LA Times (or anyone else) don't think they (or you) rate.

Live Somewhere Beautiful

When I was little we moved from Granite City, Illinois to Kingwood, Texas, courtesy of Dad’s job . For my mother, this was heaven…the warmth, the open space, the friendly people with big hats…Four years later, we were again packing the moving van to head back to Granite City. Dad’s job hadn’t worked out. Tears flowed all around.

From that time on their retirement dream was to sell the house and move back to Texas. They saved every penny toward that goal. Conversations often began with “when we retire and move…”

But a funny thing happened on the way to retirement. Moving began to seem like a large chore. The conversations started beginning with “when we retire, being close to the kids…” Eventually it became unmentioned.

One night, I came into the care center my mom stayed at, covered in the latest offering of Wisconsin’s winter. She was in the lobby, sitting in her wheel chair, watching the snow and waiting for me. I’m sure I cursed as I flicked the wetness off of my scaf. Most likely I stomped my feet as much in a childish outburst over another snowfall as to get the snow off my boots.

     “I don’t know why you don’t just leave me for dead and move away from this God forsaken weather,” she said.

     “And be deprived your charming company,” I said, snapping back to my senses and kissing her on the cheek.

     “It’s the only damn thing you really want. Who said that, ‘life is wasted on the youth?’ Got that right.”

My mom passed away two years ago last July.

Today the trappings of my life are in a box, on a truck, headed to the picture in the header of this post, in my effort not to waste my youth.

That's our 15 yr. old in the picture with the truck. She's excited to go to school with people with accents.

Are you dreaming of living somewhere else? What's your plan to get there?