tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32642208790548303372024-03-28T10:33:57.468-05:00bohemian seasonvmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.comBlogger465125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-47728074368531250682018-05-24T08:22:00.000-05:002018-05-24T08:25:36.183-05:00A tiny awakening of hope<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ZYYjOqlF9AIdY81fx74dTWWWV9tXTtvpJTDpidmrFHVLk4HNNOkByU7x6rq9fpTeMS8rJ9JC5FyqG2fV7Pf_paWBOF5SoPQUcbjycqIoafoSj-Pr7-HEe9YhTRgA6ZVn-KcT1Lo1iCtu/s1600/giveyourselftime.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="445" data-original-width="554" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ZYYjOqlF9AIdY81fx74dTWWWV9tXTtvpJTDpidmrFHVLk4HNNOkByU7x6rq9fpTeMS8rJ9JC5FyqG2fV7Pf_paWBOF5SoPQUcbjycqIoafoSj-Pr7-HEe9YhTRgA6ZVn-KcT1Lo1iCtu/s640/giveyourselftime.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Man, I feel like I’m going through a lot of transformation but not straightforward, not visible or obvious.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I’ve shifted after this miscarriage. In January, I was going through hard things, but I was optimistic. I was tender-hearted towards God - making an effort to be hopeful, surrendered to him, trust him. I did my morning devotionals every day, prayed every day. My relationship with God was my lifeline through a tough time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Imagine my surprise when, after having this miscarriage, I felt distant from God. Not wanting to talk to him, to read the Bible, to listen to Christian music. It felt like touching a wound. I wanted to avoid it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A wound? A wound? So I’ve felt wounded by God. It’s not logical, it’s not where I want to be, but it’s how I’ve felt.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The first miscarriage I had was like a gateway into deeper trust of God. Still hard, but I felt this deep grace and peace. So I thought this second time would be a cakewalk. I’d already been through it, right? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But no. I didn’t feel grace and peace. I felt… distance. I felt like I’d been betrayed. I just wanted to be alone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Here I am, five weeks after the physical miscarriage. Nine weeks after I found out there was no heartbeat. And I’ve been surviving just fine. I’m not crying every day. I’m not sitting around struggling with this or overthinking. But I’m still distant. That optimistic, hopeful, striving for the light part of me just seems to have disappeared.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">In its place is a more pragmatic person - not necessarily pessimistic or cynical or hateful or angry (well, I’m occasionally angry) or bitter (well, I’m occasionally bitter). I’m just pragmatic - like “okay, this is life. Life is hard. I’m a survivor, I’m going to make it and do the best I can with what I’ve got.” It’s not the worst place to be, but it’s not where I want to be - a place of hope, saying “Life is beautiful, life is a gift. I’m so grateful to be here. I want to go deep in God’s will. I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The last month I’ve been deep diving into changes I want to make in my life, and I really DO want those changes so bad. They aren’t necessarily heart changes, more like lifestyle changes. But I’m realizing these lifestyle changes actually require heart changes - a lot. And it’s hard for me to come at these changes out of a place of dark energy. I need the right mindset to do it. But I don’t have it. It’s just not there. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I don’t want to BE the person I am right now. And I think, "I have the choice. I can change. I can change what I think about, focus on my beliefs and the positive.” And I think maybe this is my fault and I need to push through this wall. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But, but, I wonder.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I wonder if where I’m at is where I should be. I wonder if this is part of grief - the after shocks, the slow healing of the wound. And I wonder if it’s my western culture that makes me think I should just bounce back, be healed NOW, go back to normal life like nothing happened. "I’ve got things to do and places to be, I can’t afford to slow down.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Why am I trying to heal on a timeline? Why can’t I just accept this tired, heavy place I’m in and just rest and allow healing to unfold when its time? Part of it is being scared I will be stuck here - that this darkness will be a permanent shift I won’t come back from. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Maybe, maybe, just seeing all this, just writing these words is part of that unfolding of healing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This morning I turned on Christian radio (something I haven’t been able to listen to in awhile) and there was the song with the words “I have resurrection power living inside me, Jesus you have given me freedom”. And something in me flickered in response. I have resurrection power living inside me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This story isn’t over yet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A tiny awakening of hope. I’ll take it.</span></div>
vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-34539571572219382452018-05-08T12:45:00.000-05:002018-05-08T12:45:38.969-05:0010 things I've learned about change so far<div style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 14px;">
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So I’m on day 27 of my <a href="https://bohemianseason.blogspot.com/2018/04/365-days-of-change-or-magic-of.html" target="_blank">365 Days of Change project.</a></div>
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I’ve thought about doing a progress update, but at the moment I feel like it would be boring. I’ve been able to make small changes that lay the foundation for more, but it’s that “more” that radical kind of change I’m struggling to make right now. Life the last month has been chaotic and I am tapped out. I am in survival mode and doing the best I can but it’s not a place I can make radical change from. I’m trying to just accept that but keep my focus on moving forward and making incremental change. I’m not giving up!</div>
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So, I wanted to share 10 things I’ve learned about change so far, mostly analogies because that’s the language my brain thinks in.</div>
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<li><b>Change is like driving a car with bad wheel alignment. </b>Ever had a car that needed an alignment? It just keeps wanting to veer to the left and the whole time you’re driving it, you’re having to hold the wheel extra tight? Sometimes I feel like the car with bad alignment - my wheels have a rut they naturally want to go in. I have to struggle just to get my wheels going in even a slightly different direction. For instance, I want to spend less time on my phone and laptop but I have a habit of going to it when I’m bored or need a break. My hands, going to the device are like the wheel veering to the left.</li>
<li><b>Change is like unraveling a tangle of yarn.</b> I have one thing I want to change, but it’s tangled up with other things. Let’s say I want to go to bed earlier but I just can’t seem to make it happen (real life example). I’m staying up too late because it’s my only time with my husband and I don’t want it to stop because I’m getting my son to bed too late and we’re not getting enough adult time and I’m getting my son to bed too late because I’m starting his homework too late because we’re eating dinner too late because I'm napping too long in the afternoon because I didn't get enough sleep the night before. Phew. Yeah. Sometimes I have to reconsider the whole flow of my day and change something else, earlier in the chain of events to make it work.</li>
<li><b>Change is like musical chairs. </b>I make a list of to dos for the day and only 50-75% of them get done. I try not to make my list too long, but something is always left out. If I do my daily movement, less work gets done. If I get more work done, my son has too much screen time. If I have lunch with a friend, my daily cleaning doesn’t happen. This is frustrating, but illuminating. I always think I can achieve more in a day than is possible. I’m starting to accept it and realize it all evens out over time. </li>
<li><b>The energy to change is like a jar of water with limited capacity. </b>My capacity is limited and extra busy days consume that energy. These disruptions are like stones dropped into the water and the water overflows and spills out. There’s not much energy left to power me forward. There’s been a lot of these disruptions in my life lately. And on those crazy days, I can’t make big moves.</li>
<li><b>Change in the morning is easier than at night.</b> I’m a morning person with more energy, motivation, willpower and clarity at the start of my day than the end of it.</li>
<li><b>Change that’s quick is easier than change that involves a series of steps.</b> It’s easier to swallow a supplement daily than to develop a whole plan to self-publish a book. So I tend to procrastinate more complicated changes.</li>
<li><b>Change that involves stopping a pleasurable or comfortable habit is sooooo hard.</b> Eating at night? Stop browsing the dang internet? Yeah. I like that stuff. I do it on the regular. It's a habit. Stopping it? So hard.</li>
<li><b>Change that involves fear of the unknown is the hardest. </b>Yeah, that self-publishing plan? Hard. Even publishing a blog post, fearing reactions or non-reactions can be hard.</li>
<li><b>Change is like dominoes</b>, knock over one and more fall. This gives me hope - I might not be making a big difference yet, but I'm starting the process of building momentum.</li>
<li><b>Change is like tennis.</b> I used to play tennis with my dad. I was awful. Truly awful. He’d constantly have to tell me to watch the ball and not him! Well, I find it’s necessary to keep looking every day at what I’m trying to do and remind myself. So I have a notebook I write in daily about the changes I want to make and it helps me focus. If I don’t keep my eye on the ball, I can’t change. </li>
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vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-52721778042559545382018-04-26T08:39:00.000-05:002018-04-26T08:39:12.949-05:00Dear Muse<div style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 14px;">
Dear Muse, I’m thinking in poetry this morning, daydreaming, running late, missing exits, thinking about you, my muse.</div>
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I stare at your photos on my feed, look for a new one, glimpse into your curated world, color palette perfect, without flaw, seamless, as if you live, a character, in costume, on a movie set.</div>
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And I wish I were you.</div>
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Face beautiful, time hasn’t yet marred your cheeks. Body, well… even high waisted, wide legged pants seem perfect on your twiggy frame. </div>
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You are clad in capsule wardrobe, linen and leather and wide brimmed hat, eco and green and sustainable too, made in the USA by artisans or fair trade, the work of women somewhere in the third world.</div>
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You clutch a frothy cup of coffee, manicured rose-gold ringed fingers, graceful. #Blessed #Simpleliving</div>
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Golden afternoon glows on rustic wood, macrame, tribal rugs, photo of cactus. So accidental, so casual, so easy. You didn’t plan this photo, you just fell into it, found it on your phone. A whim. </div>
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And I wish I lived in your image, no plastic legos scattered across my floor, no neon green chip clips in my junk drawer, no outfits in my closet that never look quite right.</div>
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If I could only step into your cognac leather clog shoes… Are your insides perfect too?</div>
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Or do you edit out the shadows, the things that don’t fit or make sense?</div>
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Dear Muse, I hate you too. The way you make me feel my life, my boring, mis-matched, plastic filled, worn down life, is somehow not enough. The way you make me think I could be, should be, more.</div>
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If only I wore the right shoes.</div>
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If only I were drinking matcha from pottery hand glazed by some artist in Joshua Tree.</div>
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if only my hair, artfully tousled, messy, yet styled, fell down over one eye.</div>
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If only my selfies turned out right, maybe I might...</div>
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Dear Muse, please stop making me wish I weren’t me.</div>
vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-23642957957202467102018-04-18T08:37:00.000-05:002018-04-18T08:37:32.878-05:00Day 7 - The Little Things<span style="font-size: large;">I love to go deep, but sometimes it's the little things that sustain me through hard times - sparks of joy, simple things that remind me of how good it feels to be alive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Most of these make me feel more feminine, more pulled together, which is something I need after a long period of struggling to get off the couch and put makeup on.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">My favorite little things lately:</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>A mani-pedi with a friend</b> - what a treat! Makes me feel instantly pulled together, pampered and glam.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrufjAK4O2lpTGNePgzeSKTnZxpepe0yuu0ZmbLx2bO-0KkXZIFApIvXYE1fq2EzKLNze9CXD3_99sDd12mGI2wESdDAYRTSk9hVr9DGCm-IBcAWiBut7U1PwGfc7sYi8k3SEwwT_m8ryg/s1600/Madewell-Skinny-Overalls-in-Kemp-Wash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="720" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrufjAK4O2lpTGNePgzeSKTnZxpepe0yuu0ZmbLx2bO-0KkXZIFApIvXYE1fq2EzKLNze9CXD3_99sDd12mGI2wESdDAYRTSk9hVr9DGCm-IBcAWiBut7U1PwGfc7sYi8k3SEwwT_m8ryg/s640/Madewell-Skinny-Overalls-in-Kemp-Wash.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>A bold fashion choice</b> - at least for me. I've had my eyes on <a href="https://www.madewell.com/p/madewell_category/denimbar/onepiecejeans/skinny-overalls-in-kemp-wash/" target="_blank">these overalls</a> for waaaay too long now. I just kept feeling nervous about buying them. Too trendy? Too young? Not figure flattering? I had all these hesitations. Well, I finally did it. And it feels good to be brave! And I love wearing them.</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">(Hey, if you comment below, will you tell me what fashion trend you've secretly been wanting to try lately, but haven't gotten the guts to yet? Come on, you can tell me!)</span></i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZjTciLzPp9evpK4Qxb6NskAQyj_M5IZrVcuIVMIRUh9o4a001WS1UmH_OJN7rQtZC9x-9Ho8FD8XQJAM7EHLeqaUqpROSwtg9__NxcC7Dcw2HbS88VuagyqmzrAEieFE5SoEO2nJKmygv/s1600/pf-candle-co-fragrance-collection-woods.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1144" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZjTciLzPp9evpK4Qxb6NskAQyj_M5IZrVcuIVMIRUh9o4a001WS1UmH_OJN7rQtZC9x-9Ho8FD8XQJAM7EHLeqaUqpROSwtg9__NxcC7Dcw2HbS88VuagyqmzrAEieFE5SoEO2nJKmygv/s640/pf-candle-co-fragrance-collection-woods.jpg" width="456" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Lighting a candle</b> from <a href="https://pfcandleco.com/products/no-04-teakwood-tobacco-7-2-oz-standard-soy-candle" target="_blank">P.F. Candle Co</a>. No. 4 Teakwood and Tobacco is my favorite.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhboqy6IQmRw-0aNH74steaHNEPi1797xouR1nUiiYyOXzzIBIZRJivbfPIPgea-y9Vr6G55bp34lmFkDveShiomzUv77jVjE2HCHA9NUv1QVqz2pB6-N_VmKiApEst7TfE5bhzs6zc0VYF/s1600/avedatea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhboqy6IQmRw-0aNH74steaHNEPi1797xouR1nUiiYyOXzzIBIZRJivbfPIPgea-y9Vr6G55bp34lmFkDveShiomzUv77jVjE2HCHA9NUv1QVqz2pB6-N_VmKiApEst7TfE5bhzs6zc0VYF/s640/avedatea.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Discovering a new tea</b> I'm obsessed with. <a href="https://www.aveda.com/product/5210/16719/body/tea/aveda-comforting-tea#/shade/4.9_oz_%2F_140_g" target="_blank">Comforting Tea from Aveda</a> is so tasty, so naturally sweet tasting without sugar and caffeine.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGq91IlEh8oZn2z3GRh9Il7xv2cM-3M-Mgl5bLZg2tim1F2QewTCh6_mUoFAcWokp1rloSLmN3TOIIP4smCc1zTiYr8n1l6ECno6dnljDBsT15K5cC611gM5nKb1tq8MgBHfYkn1OymNe/s1600/Toner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="445" data-original-width="667" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGq91IlEh8oZn2z3GRh9Il7xv2cM-3M-Mgl5bLZg2tim1F2QewTCh6_mUoFAcWokp1rloSLmN3TOIIP4smCc1zTiYr8n1l6ECno6dnljDBsT15K5cC611gM5nKb1tq8MgBHfYkn1OymNe/s640/Toner.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Playing around with Korean skin care methods. </b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-wTGzrBqsIk" target="_blank">Seven-skin method</a>. <a href="https://blog.glowrecipe.com/2017/11/08/exactly-how-to-get-glass-skin-in-5-easy-steps/" target="_blank">Glass skin</a>. Sheet masks. They are over the top and so fun I think! </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hD4jstixPrC0HlqVHARO9Hp1KG-n4kl95mINpcgaoP0Pa5pz5N4xmot_Ypr1Xihikz9G7tn5IHGLCgAZgbsGnBXEoZHfraPYsAF9Qvaa6wnNELwyArF76CqJRHIqCqDjGK2DPsyugzym/s1600/Creek.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="617" data-original-width="1100" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hD4jstixPrC0HlqVHARO9Hp1KG-n4kl95mINpcgaoP0Pa5pz5N4xmot_Ypr1Xihikz9G7tn5IHGLCgAZgbsGnBXEoZHfraPYsAF9Qvaa6wnNELwyArF76CqJRHIqCqDjGK2DPsyugzym/s640/Creek.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>And super silly television. </b>Sorry about the language here, but I love Schitt's Creek on Netflix. I never would tried it if I hadn't seen Alison from <a href="https://www.brocantehome.net/" target="_blank">Brocante Home</a> mention it. I watched one episode and was hooked. It's fluffy and ridiculous. The characters are narcissistic and pitiful while being likable at the same time. It's totally hilarious and for me its worth watching just for Moira's outfits and wigs.</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Any little things you are loving lately? Do share, because I get the best ideas from friends!</span></i><br />
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<span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 42px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 298px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 42px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 298px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 42px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 298px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 42px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 298px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span>vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-72675298998736529812018-04-12T16:07:00.000-05:002018-04-18T08:40:33.364-05:00Day 2 - The Saddest Roses<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQm9Zkk1fS_tIMjMedhhFVMWpN0xF54uo60pZO7e7nPU6zM6enCFYTqCvmwPykmbg3Nna6yXX894KK48tT4pUMDTGNLmjIzW6tDdse3hUxvr59-dY5Nd4aKIXWlWR2kdwm5RFF430BtIGE/s1600/5c0668465c94a9a33d986dc85256c7c9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="671" data-original-width="564" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQm9Zkk1fS_tIMjMedhhFVMWpN0xF54uo60pZO7e7nPU6zM6enCFYTqCvmwPykmbg3Nna6yXX894KK48tT4pUMDTGNLmjIzW6tDdse3hUxvr59-dY5Nd4aKIXWlWR2kdwm5RFF430BtIGE/s640/5c0668465c94a9a33d986dc85256c7c9.jpg" width="536" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.nakedheartpoetry.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">*via Naked Heart Poetry</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I wanted to start out optimistic and happy and positive, but I have to do this first, I have to get this off my chest. This is a journey I'm on and it won't make sense without sharing where I've just been.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjxmOc1cs5x5kDHkO5uEHtltKKQa8N4uBanp4ykAtvNjzcQOJ94Zset2CkJGnlI3esTLCGtuU8riGJi6p2EvTxg0vHhx4Uc1DcY0L1RkD4vtEWiKdxW1WlKeon6UpxGiHdYry6XPLdDVj2/s1600/FullSizeRender-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="1512" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjxmOc1cs5x5kDHkO5uEHtltKKQa8N4uBanp4ykAtvNjzcQOJ94Zset2CkJGnlI3esTLCGtuU8riGJi6p2EvTxg0vHhx4Uc1DcY0L1RkD4vtEWiKdxW1WlKeon6UpxGiHdYry6XPLdDVj2/s640/FullSizeRender-1.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Aren't these the saddest roses you've ever seen?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've kept them around, petals wilting, dried out and brown at the edges, because they make me feel sad, and I want to be sad, I want to remember. I want something physical, a symbol of what I've been through, a physical manifestation of my love, my sadness.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I can't believe I'm writing about this publicly, but it's a form of catharsis. A way of saying to myself "this was real, it happened". A memorial of sorts.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had a miscarriage recently. I had another one a year and a half ago too, which I've never written about. But this one has hit me harder, in ways I don't understand and didn't expect.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'll keep details to myself, but share a little, because I need to get it out, to write it down, to bare my soul, to carve this memorial stone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I found out (shockingly) I was pregnant, it took awhile to let myself be happy, to hope, and when I did, it was a beautiful thing, a rose colored bubble of joy, so delicate. It popped a month later at finding no heartbeat at our first doctor's visit. No reason why, no answers, just ache.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Even though I'd tried to prepare myself for the possibility of this, my emotions felt like an explosion of pain - negativity coming out of me in every direction, spewing all over everyone around me, the world around me, like dark sticky bile. I didn't want to talk to anyone for awhile, out of fear I would sound like a madwoman.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The intensity passed. And then it was the waiting. I waited another month to have a natural miscarriage. I waited through spring break and family visits and my son's birthday. And then it was over.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There was one last painful gasp of grief, followed by quiet exhaustion and withdrawal. And eventually, little spurts of energy and laughter returning.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Life goes on and I go on. At such a fast pace it goes on, and I run to keep up with it. All the while wishing I could shut myself away for a week, draw the curtains and lay in bed. But it is sunny spring and there is work to do, and an energetic boy to chase after, and so here I am, picking up the pieces and going on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">At times life seems so normal again. But then I see the roses and remember that baby I loved and wanted, who flew away. It hurts to remember, but I don't want to forget.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheBed66QBmIdtXphgyA6_7ATVUSlgZNWn4dYGFGBoRu2maaTuKq9uKyJONrEsYRAoE-J_lbWjhDtvUdfnL5oFvKgo4JzEjP1ST6m1KfS4m-DEvFTqkqX3MlcsZO0_VL2u9Ipf2m2MZQfIz/s1600/FullSizeRender-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheBed66QBmIdtXphgyA6_7ATVUSlgZNWn4dYGFGBoRu2maaTuKq9uKyJONrEsYRAoE-J_lbWjhDtvUdfnL5oFvKgo4JzEjP1ST6m1KfS4m-DEvFTqkqX3MlcsZO0_VL2u9Ipf2m2MZQfIz/s640/FullSizeRender-2.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I can't speak for everyone's miscarriage experiences. I know each is unique. But I know they are common and I know they hurt.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We are a sisterhood, those of us, who've walked this path. "Me too," we say. And "I know." It's a mystery, a deep and painful, one of life and death, we've been initiated into.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And it can feel so lonely. Even though I think it's not something to be ashamed of, it can be hard to talk about. So I'm talking about it, for all of you, like me, to know, you are not alone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Coming out of the other side of this, I don't feel like the same person I was before, and I'm not sure what that means, and what the future holds. Everything seems cloudy. But I'm venturing on, hoping the clouds will part and I'll see my path clearly again. And I'm here, writing about it and blogging, because I'm alive and I'm ready to step into something new, even if I'm not sure what that is.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's time to say goodbye to these sad roses. But I won't forget.</span>vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-84360293264991162702018-04-11T16:12:00.000-05:002018-04-18T08:40:54.171-05:00Day 1 of 365 Days of Change<div style="font-family: 'helvetica neue';">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIpJ2bnUwWreq9OiUykvzr-SdjkF1nJwLFoyo1RdZ0_B2JMbPALuCHEHiHB2gah0kw9PwqJb02y8KMfjklbsGGgX8kntBhF5oV5c1fG6ZgMIsKwSxKPHEVFyRRkiU0zuWVUnVIaz3bGP5u/s1600/IMG_0297.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIpJ2bnUwWreq9OiUykvzr-SdjkF1nJwLFoyo1RdZ0_B2JMbPALuCHEHiHB2gah0kw9PwqJb02y8KMfjklbsGGgX8kntBhF5oV5c1fG6ZgMIsKwSxKPHEVFyRRkiU0zuWVUnVIaz3bGP5u/s640/IMG_0297.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm always intrigued by bloggers who undergo radical challenges - pushing themselves in a public forum to see how far they can go. Some examples of experimenters that have inspired me: </span></div>
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<a href="https://bemorewithless.com/project-333/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">Courtney Carver's Project 333 on Be More With Less</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.un-fancy.com/category/10x10-wardrobe-challenge/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">The 10x10 Wardrobe Challenge on Unfancy</span></a></div>
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<a href="https://gretchenrubin.com/books/the-happiness-project/about-the-book/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I like to watch other people boldly strike out at something new and see what happens. There's something magical about experiments. And maybe there's a part of me that longs for that same boldness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Recently I was inspired me to come back to blogging when I stumbled across <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qlhtued3OEw" target="_blank">Dottie James talking about changing her life in one year on YouTube</a>. She's in a different stage of life than mine, but I felt it keenly, her desire to shake up her life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I feel that way right now. I need some pretty radical change, and I decided to boldly strike out myself by writing about it on my own blog. </span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">So here goes, my own 365 Days of Change. </span></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">So... why do this?</span></i></div>
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<li><span style="font-size: large;">I feel stuck in a rut. I’ve been wanting to change areas of my life, but I don’t get traction long enough to make it happen. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">I want to be in a radically different place a year from now. And I’m not going to get there if I just keep doing the same thing. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">I recently had a miscarriage. Maybe I’ll write more on this later, maybe I won’t. But I’m in a place where I am craving a fresh start and new hope.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">I want to reinvigorate my creative side. Blogging was an outlet for that, so I'm bringing it back, baby!</span></li>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">What I want to change: </span></i></div>
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<li><span style="font-size: large;">Rebuild my health.</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: large;">More stamina, strength and energy! </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Lose more weight by eating healthy keto and intermittent fasting. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Get enough sleep consistently. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Exercise often but gently, so I don't activate old injuries, amping it up so that a year from now I'm at a much better fitness level.</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: large;">Align parenting to my core values</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: large;">Make healthier choices for my son, even when they aren't so easy for me.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Less screen time and more independent play and outdoor play. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Try new foods and give him healthier food to eat. No small feat with a picky eater!</span></li>
</ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Connect</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: large;">It's been a challenging time and relationships have fallen by the wayside. I want to connect with a friend once a week, go to church on Sunday, and find a women's group or Bible study to be a part of.</span></li>
</ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Reinvigorate my creativity</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: large;">Blog at least once a week. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Maybe write some poetry. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Ponder the possibility of self-publishing my novel. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Do little things that make me feel sparkly inside. Paint my fingernails. Experiment with fashion. Write some book and movie reviews again.</span></li>
</ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Get offline</span></li>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">This is hard to admit for a once-avowed bookworm, but I need to rebuild my attention span and ability to enjoy life without glancing at my phone, browsing the internet or listening to a podcast. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Spend more time outdoors.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Read more, actual old-fashioned books, on paper. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">See people, more often, in person</span></li>
</ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Business/career shifts</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: large;">I do have some plans in this area, but it's still not clear yet, so for now, I'm keeping this one private.</span></li>
</ul>
</ul>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm not going to tackle all of this immediately, but build a foundation and set new goals each month.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I'll use this blog to report on my progress and what I'm learning along the way.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">365 days of change! Magical experiments! And blogging again! I'm kind of excited!</span></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Want to come along?</span></i></div>
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vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-34824353701449221332018-04-10T16:59:00.000-05:002018-04-10T16:59:23.065-05:00Yep, I'm back<div style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 14px;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3gdOGqdb62TcDdO_uck_hVznAPa-_2QrdonUHp0Ej3HMPE0978jIt9Rcc8tytf6f2fUqLTNh37_VCpYwbkCuMMDKsVzZ6O5KRYPOjBpnFcTGGogu1w7x4FYQSh5AtObEpVhaiIkkQ-i9m/s1600/FullSizeRender+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3gdOGqdb62TcDdO_uck_hVznAPa-_2QrdonUHp0Ej3HMPE0978jIt9Rcc8tytf6f2fUqLTNh37_VCpYwbkCuMMDKsVzZ6O5KRYPOjBpnFcTGGogu1w7x4FYQSh5AtObEpVhaiIkkQ-i9m/s640/FullSizeRender+7.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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So, I’ve been gone from this blog a long time, but I’ve been keeping it, waiting to see if I’d want it again, waiting for that day. </div>
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And it’s here.</div>
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I’m tempted to explain why I’ve been gone.</div>
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I’m tempted to tell you why I’m back.</div>
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I’m tempted to try to catch you up on where I’ve been.</div>
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But I’m not going to do all of that. Not all at once. I’m just going to let it roll and we’ll see what happens...</div>
vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-5162093577193648872015-09-21T11:29:00.000-05:002015-09-21T11:29:32.135-05:00A long summer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"Where are you at with things now?" a few of you have asked about my writing. Well, since you asked... Right now I'm still on a break from all things writing and not sure when I'll go back.<br />
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I went on vacation in August. There was no more Mother's Day Out and I had Will full time. I had sent out all my query letters. The form rejection emails were rolling in like ocean waves. And I decided to go on vacation from writing, from trying to get published and from worrying about all of those things. The break, the letting go, was good.<br />
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I feel SO proud of myself for all that I've done the last six months. I struggled with the question to traditional publish or self-publish. I struggled with my own inner turmoil, my perfectionism, my fear of rejection, my values, my beliefs, my dreams, my fears. I decided what I wanted to do and I went after it. I learned a lot as I went.<br />
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I learned QueryTracker is really an amazing web site. God bless whoever came up with it. Seriously. If you're a writer, get to know it, okay?<br />
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I learned that the hardest part, really, is getting ready to query. OMG, the query letter, the synopsis, are they ever right? Are they ever done? Are you ever really sure about them?<br />
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And the second hardest part is sending the first few emails. Actually, it was still hard to send every email. But I gained momentum as I went.<br />
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I learned that form rejection emails still hurt, no matter how softly they're worded. I learned that form rejection emails make me want to scream, because really, I have no real clue why it's getting rejected - bad query letter, bad hook, bad writing, wrong genre for the agent?<br />
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I learned that after getting a few form rejection emails they stopped hurting so much and I started toughening up.<br />
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I've experienced some heart ache, some heart break, lots of tears and phone calls to friends and late night conversations in bed with my husband.<br />
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Along the way I've learned more and more about publishing. Even with everything I already knew, I still feel I've been pretty naive with rosy daydreams of what being a writer would be like. I learned that the publishing industry is a pretty tough place to be, especially with the sea change that's been happening the last five years. I learned how much of a crap shoot being a writer is. I know that agents and successful writers and publishers will tell you it's not all about luck and true talent and hard work wins out. And I believe this is mostly true.<br />
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But it's the amount of hard work over a period of years. It's not just writing one novel and trying to get an agent for it. It's being willing to do that again, and again, and again, until it works. It's going to classes, conferences, reading books, staying in touch with social media and the industry, it's practicing your craft. It's going to writers groups, trying to find writing and critique partners. It's facing criticism and rejection. It's doing all this for years. Without any guaranteed pay off. And actually it's doing all of this for years when the odds are actually stacked against you succeeding.<br />
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You either have to be truly passionate and dogged, or you have to be... dumb... to do it.<br />
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So where am I now? Right now I'm unsure whether the risk/reward ratio of continuing to write and pursue publication is one I want to accept. I'm unsure whether I'm passionate enough to do all this for years with low odds of success. Right now I'm in a vacuum of uncertainty.<br />
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But strangely I'm at peace.<br />
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Because I am sure that I followed my dreams, that I worked really hard, that I overcame a lot of personal obstacles to do what I did. And if it didn't work out that's okay. I can say I tried! And dang it if that's not something.<br />
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Because I am sure that my number one priority is taking care of me, my family's needs, my husband, my son. And that's okay.<br />
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The door isn't closed yet. I have another novel I could shop around. And then there's always self-publishing as a possibility. But right now I feel no pressure to do anything. And that feels blissfully good.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAfJ7BThFvdMI8GGNLJgud5Q9YDxzjfEmQpHy3MMUnwFsQYLu5YS58GGhubCCaFylZWQKnBdOO2gRQvBpnZXWFVDbhKDZBjhiCA5KP0LldePZk0sZ_71Ynlal6r4gsRpWsZdWnc9-SWV4w/s1600/sparrows.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAfJ7BThFvdMI8GGNLJgud5Q9YDxzjfEmQpHy3MMUnwFsQYLu5YS58GGhubCCaFylZWQKnBdOO2gRQvBpnZXWFVDbhKDZBjhiCA5KP0LldePZk0sZ_71Ynlal6r4gsRpWsZdWnc9-SWV4w/s400/sparrows.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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It feels blissfully good to let myself just be, to let go of the idea that I have to be striving and working for something all the time.<br />
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I'm living life, right here, right now, trusting that if this is something I want, the spark of passion will light again. Right now I'm still consuming books at a rapid pace, enjoying reading for reading's sake. I'm getting used to our new Fall schedule with Will back in school. I'm sleeping more, exercising more, relaxing more. I'm at peace. And it's good!<br />
<a href="" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-46011308578488597262015-07-21T12:14:00.000-05:002015-07-21T12:14:17.410-05:00The thing about fear, the thing about faith<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I’ve been dealing with fear a lot lately.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">As I’m sending out query letters for my novel, I’m pushing into new territory, places that stretch me, that put me in that uncomfortable place. I like comfortable places. I like to be warm and cozy and safe, not lost and freezing and naked.</span><br />
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But as I’m moving through the fear I’m finding out things, interesting things. Yeah, I’m scared of being rejected - both personally and my writing. I knew that. And I thought that was it. I thought that was the BIG THING that terrified me. </div>
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But as I’m looking at this head on and doing it anyway, I’m figuring out it’s not just that. What I’m most scared of is losing my “thing”. Writing has been my “thing” for awhile now. Something I love. A hobby. Not just a hobby, a passion. And an identity too. </div>
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To be published is a long held dream. And the scary part is losing that dream. </div>
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Imagine there’s this person you’ve been crushing on. For awhile. There’s something between you - you think, you hope - but you don’t know for sure. </div>
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The minute you say something “So what’s up with us? Do you dig me like I dig you?" Well, that’s the moment the dream comes true. Or the dream is over. Finished. Done.</div>
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It’s easier, it’s safer, to never open your mouth and risk it. If you keep it in the maybe position, there’s always a chance, at least in your own mind, that it might happen. But if you put it out there, well that chance might go away. And now you’ve got nothing. You’re at zero.</div>
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And that’s my biggest fear - not having my big dream as an option anymore. Being at zero. Being at “what now?” </div>
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Because I don’t know “What now?” </div>
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I’d like to say I’d troop on and write another novel and do it all over again. That sounds like the girl scout thing to say. But I don’t know. </div>
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Let me get real here. There is a risk-reward equation to consider. Writing a novel (and re-writing it until it’s good) is a big time sink. And being a writer isn’t just the writing - it’s reading books about writing, taking writing classes, spending time with writing partners and the writing community, and reading lots of books and staying in touch with what’s going on in the publishing industry. To do all this, and then face the .05% chance of getting published? If I’m going to be a realist, I have to question whether I want to invest more of my life in it.</div>
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In spite of how much I love writing, I don’t know if I’d do this all over again. I don’t know yet. And so I’m a train going into a dark tunnel, not sure what’s on the other side of all this.</div>
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I’m scared of that darkness, that unknown, being stripped of a dream, of an identity. I’m scared of emptiness and uncertainty. </div>
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I’ve always wanted to have something in my life that is “my thing” - a passion, a driving force, a creative spark, the thing that makes me, “me”. And as a mom, that’s become even more important to me. I adore my son, but I want to have my own life too. </div>
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The possibility of losing that shakes me. So this is a year of my life where I need faith. </div>
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I don't need unmerited optimism. I don't need to believe that my dreams will all come true. Just faith that it will all be okay no matter what. Faith that if I do end up at zero, that something new and good will grow out of that, even if I have no idea what it is.</div>
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vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-82675758901566331152015-07-14T20:03:00.001-05:002015-07-14T20:03:12.617-05:00Always believe something wonderfulBecause pictures say things words cannot, because today I need to play, childlike and free, because I need to believe a little something wonderful.<br />
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<a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/113087218/something-wonderful-print-of-original?ref=v1_other_1" target="_blank">Etsy</a></div>
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vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-17326325608358647092015-07-01T21:57:00.000-05:002015-07-01T21:57:22.716-05:00Cliff jumping<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Yeah, so you're wondering why I'm posting a bikini pic on my blog. And... you're wondering if I've jumped into some kind of time machine.<br />
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Wish I could tell you that time travel wasn't fictional, but that's really me a while back. Big T in 17. That was my nickname the year I was seventeen. That was the year I went cliff jumping. That was the year I was brave. And I'm trying to get a little bit of her back again.<br />
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I am in the process of querying (<a href="http://bohemianseason.blogspot.com/2015/05/diving-in.html" target="_blank">sending out query letters to prospective literary agents for my novel</a>) - a slow process as it's summertime and I have a wild and sweaty three year old on my hands all day.<br />
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I won't go into the mechanics of how many queries I've sent out and how they're doing, but I'm proud that I'm making a start and learning.<br />
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It's a lot like cliff jumping. When I was 17 on the Big Island we went to this secret spot where you could jump off a cliff into the ocean. Y'all. This is so not the kind of thing I do. But you know what? I did it.<br />
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You know how? I just jumped. There was no preamble. No thinking about it. No standing on the edge and looking over. I just jumped as quick as I could.<br />
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It was a blast, ocean water up the nose, bathing suit wedgie and all. It was even more of a rush because it's <i>not</i> the sort of <i>thing</i> I do. I was ferociously proud of myself in that moment.<br />
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The odd thing was, weeks later I went back and I couldn't do it. I stood on the edge looking over and I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I hesitated. I waited too long and the fear took over.<br />
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Sending out query letters to prospective agents feels the same way. The hardest part is thinking about doing it. Standing on the edge, pondering it, but not having the will to jump. The hardest part is just hitting send on the email.<br />
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Once I hit send, well, it's like flying through the air into that bracing ocean water. It's exhilarating. It's a rush. It's all downhill after that.<br />
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Not that querying is easy. I've spent months working on my query letter and synopsis. And now comes the waiting. Now come the rejection letters.<br />
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But you know, it still feels like jumping was the hardest part.<br />
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Part of what helped me jump off the cliff on the Big Island was my big, rowdy group of friends who were confidently plunging into the ocean themselves, not to mention the boys I was trying to impress with my bravado.<br />
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But I'm not 17 anymore. And I don't have a big, rowdy group of friends who are querying with me and cheering me on. That would certainly help! We could all order up a round of drinks to celebrate after hitting send. Or hey, just go cliff jumping.<br />
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But these days, it feels lonely, like it's just me, at that cliff alone, trying to get up the courage to leap.<br />
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So, if you wanna send me any virtual cheers or hugs, I'll take all the encouragement I can get to keep jumping, even if I don't know exactly what I'm jumping into.<br />
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May we all have the courage to go cliff jumping, at least once in our lives!<br />
<br />vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-69017474455002570882015-06-01T17:05:00.000-05:002015-06-01T17:05:04.900-05:00Summertime<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Summertime is here. And it's finally stopped raining enough to feel like it. I've been taking a break from obsessing about writing and I've been swimming in small pleasures while also trying to adjust to the end of Mother's Day Out and having my toddler home with me all day every day. I'm drinking iced Americanos and getting bit by mosquitoes and taking naps whenever I can.<br />
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Here's a few of the things I've been living and loving lately.<br />
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<b>Music: </b><br />
<a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/10-000-emerald-pools/id935491592?i=935491608" target="_blank">BORNS - Candy EP</a>. This is happy dancey feel good music.<br />
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<b>Movies: </b><br />
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On Mother's Day my husband treated me by letting me go to a matinee by myself. He knows what I like! I went to go see Far From the Madding Crowd. It was a nice period film. It makes me want to go back and read the book. It makes me wonder why I haven't read the book. It makes me wonder if I did read the book in college and forgot it? Hmmm.<br />
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We also saw Mad Max: Fury Road. I wanted to love it. Because I'm a child of the 80s, okay? And it was a big, gorgeous extravaganza of weirdness, but it didn't hit me in the heart. Maybe I was too busy being blown away by all the intense action.<br />
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<b>TV: </b><br />
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The Blacklist is the latest tv show I've gotten hooked on. I'm not so big on the "criminal of the week" format, but the chemistry between Reddington and Elizabeth Keen is just so great - the ongoing mystery of who is he and what is he to her? And I love the oh-so-addictive weird relationship between Elizabeth and Tom Keen. It reminds me a lot of Alias (and I loved that show) with less far-out and cheesy spy stuff (although that was kind of fun too). The first season of Blacklist is on Netflix if you want to check it out.<br />
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Okay, and I have to give another plug for Hart of Dixie here. This show is over. The season finale was a few months ago. But I love the way they ended it. I hate it when I love a show and it ends abruptly or badly. I swear this season I cried almost every episode. They know just how to make me laugh and cry too. So if you like girly quirky screwball comedies like Gilmore Girls, you have to watch Hart of Dixie. Also on Netflix, people!<br />
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And... the Bachelorette is back on! Don't make plans with me for Monday nights because I will be butt in seat watching all summer long. Yes, this show is ridiculous. Yes, that's why I watch it.<br />
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<b>And of course, Books: </b><br />
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I've been reading a TON lately. Or maybe I should say I've been listening a TON. Because I've ripped through a lot of audiobooks in addition to the books I've been reading.<br />
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I have a lot of thoughts about reading I'd love to sit down and hash out. I still haven't found my perfect niche as a reader (and probably never will). I keep expecting to find some sub-genre that is just so ME that I want to read it forever. But I don't. I'll read some women's contemporary fiction. Then some women's historical fiction. And then read some YA fantasy as a chaser. And then I will read chick lit as a palate cleanser. Then I'll read sci fi. Then I'll read a historical mystery. And maybe some memoir or non-fiction thrown in for good measure.<br />
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It's like a good dinner. I need contrasting varieties and tastes and textures to keep it fresh and interesting.<br />
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Here are a few of my recent faves:<br />
<ul>
<li>The Girl on The Train by Paula Hawkins</li>
<li>Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty</li>
<li>At the Water's Edge by Sara Gruen</li>
<li>Time's Edge by Rysa Walker</li>
<li>Grave Mercy by Robin LaFevers</li>
<li>I've Got Your Number by Sophie Kinsella</li>
<li>Uprooted by Naomi Novik</li>
</ul>
If you want to see more of what I'm reading or my book reviews, please <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/bohemianseason" target="_blank">check me out on Goodreads and add me as a friend so I can see what you're reading too</a>.<br />
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<b>And, Food, Food, Food!!!</b><br />
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Cookbooks I've been perusing from the library:<br />
<ul>
<li>Jamie Oliver's Comfort Food</li>
<li>Buvette - I want to eat here next time I'm in NYC or Paris! </li>
</ul>
<b>Favorite recipes recently:</b><br />
<ul>
<li><a href="http://menumusings.blogspot.com/2013/02/coconut-lime-chicken.html" target="_blank">Coconut Lime Chicken from Menu Musings</a></li>
<li><a href="http://bromabakery.com/2013/11/tartine-bakery-brownies.html" target="_blank">Tartine Bakery Brownies</a> - in my opinion this is the best classic brownie recipe I've ever tried. </li>
<li><a href="http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2015/04/salted-chocolate-chunk-cookies/" target="_blank">Salted Chocolate Chunk Cookies</a> - in my opinion this is the BEST chocolate chip cookie I've ever had. Now that's quite a statement, eh?</li>
<li><a href="http://offbeatandinspired.com/2014/08/08/lavender-honey-iced-latte" target="_blank">Lavender Honey Iced Latte</a> - This was a little complicated for my lazy self. I used it as inspiration and just crushed some lavender into my coffee grounds before brewing, then made iced coffee with that and some honey. It was a nice twist!</li>
<li><a href="http://pinchofyum.com/chopped-thai-salad-sesame-garlic-dressing" target="_blank">Chopped Thai Salad</a> - I added chopped chicken and avocado to make it a filling entree salad. Perfect for hot weather!</li>
</ul>
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<b>Miscellany:</b><br />
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<a href="http://www.kendrascott.com/" target="_blank">Kendra Scott</a> - Ohhhhh no. I've been bitten by the Kendra Scott bug. I asked for one of her necklaces for Mother's Day. I just love the fun funky style, the different color choices and it's good quality. I'm so tired of buying costume jewelry and having the metal finish wear off in six months. Every woman I know in Austin seems to love Kendra Scott. Is this just an Austin thing because she's local? Or is every woman in Kansas and Atlanta and LA wearing her stuff too?<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.coolasuncare.com/sunscreen-spf-30-tint-mineral" target="_blank">Coola face SPF 30 matte tint sunscreen</a> - Okay, this is weird. But I am in love with this stuff. Because I need to be wearing sunscreen on my face everyday. Because it doesn't feel like I am wearing sunscreen on my face everyday. Because it's light and soft nothingness on my skin. And because it's non-chemical sunscreen.<br />
<br />vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-57447580912909074422015-05-13T11:54:00.000-05:002015-05-13T11:54:02.149-05:00Diving in<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So for the curious, here’s an update on writer happenings around here.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I set a goal several months ago to self-publish one of my novels by June 1. It was an audacious goal. I wanted to challenge myself, spur myself forward, make things happen because I’d been stuck and stagnant so long.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And that’s happened for sure. I did another edit of my novel. It was absorbing and exciting and fun. But in the middle of that I was thinking again about whether I want to pursue the traditional publishing path or self-publishing. Both paths seem daunting, both paths offer pros and cons. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But I was searching for what was in my heart - what I really want, in spite of the fear. And what I want is to give traditional publishing a try. I feel like I would regret it if I didn’t. And what do I have to lose? Well, I stand to lose time and emotional energy, but I'm not going to get anywhere if I'm not willing to invest my time and energy and take risks.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, here I am, weeks away from June 1, and I will not be slapping my lovely little novel up for sale on Amazon. But, I am okay with that. I’ve kickstarted the process, I’ve gotten myself moving and that’s what I wanted to do in the first place.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So instead, I'll be working on the process of getting traditionally published. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">For those of you unfamiliar with the publishing process here’s a quick overview of how it looks from an author's perspective: </span></div>
<div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">You send a query letter, a short blurb about your book and usually a sample, to agents who you’d like to represent you.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Based on the query letter if an agent is interested they ask to read your whole manuscript. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">If they like your manuscript and think it’s sellable and a good fit, they contact you to offer representation. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">After you’ve signed with an agent, you may have another round of revisions and edits to your novel. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">And then the agent will start to pitch your novel to publishers. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">And then if a publisher wants your novel, there will be negotiations before the contract.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Once the contract is signed, there will then be another round of edits and proofreading before your novel gets sent to print.</span></li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It is not an easy or short process to be sure. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">But it is what it is, and I’m diving in at the beginning. The last month I’ve spend most of my energy on getting ready to query. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's taken me longer than I wish because I’ve been sorting through complex emotions - chief among them fear - to get to a point where I am ready to start sending query letters. I feel vulnerable admitting this, admitting that I am not bullet proof, that I’m thin skinned and sensitive. It’s true, I am. And I wish I wasn’t. So I’m having to psych myself up to go through this. There is a lot of rejection and criticism. It’s par for the course. So here I go.
</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ll be starting to query soon and I have no idea what that will look like - how long I’ll be doing it, how many agents I will query, how soon I will hear back from them (if at all).
</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So… don’t expect me to be posting every little detail here as I'm pretty sure it would bore you to tears. And </span>don't expect me to be<span style="font-family: inherit;"> telling you in a month that I have some magical fairy dust publishing deal! But if you have a bag of magical fairy dust, please send it my way. ;-)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In the meantime, I’m trying to reignite what I love about writing in the first place and working on a new project. I want to keep the creative flow flowing! </span></div>
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vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-51934933574452194042015-05-08T08:46:00.001-05:002015-05-08T08:46:43.890-05:00Ex Machina: Men, Women, Robots & Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN6_fFwJ1xbLt-t5w43oX3-WeqqB0Ji-9Bf79E_ICRSr3vuE6sqC-ktJC5xD9TqOWOyGcaSNfS_r2q4I8OL3Comp31VjBONNkW9Bs4ozQqXHWy7zTVTpbvW_Wxb2L53y8lpwfm0rr0T7eN/s1600/Ex+Machina+by+Brian+Taylor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN6_fFwJ1xbLt-t5w43oX3-WeqqB0Ji-9Bf79E_ICRSr3vuE6sqC-ktJC5xD9TqOWOyGcaSNfS_r2q4I8OL3Comp31VjBONNkW9Bs4ozQqXHWy7zTVTpbvW_Wxb2L53y8lpwfm0rr0T7eN/s1600/Ex+Machina+by+Brian+Taylor.jpg" width="460" /></a></div>
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So I watched <i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0470752/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1" target="_blank">Ex Machina</a></i> last weekend. Haven't stopped thinking about it since. And I love that. There are so many layers to this movie, so many ways to dissect and discuss it. (Please don't ask me about this movie at lunch because I will be talking for an hour.)<br />
<br />
But the aspect that jumped out at me was the feminist angle. I consider myself a feminist, but I'm not one of those people constantly looking around for patriarchal boogeymen to jump out of the bushes. To me, most of our problems around this place called earth are not problems of patriarchy, but just human nature, male or female.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhob3e2WFLguBONh0pHqpjWFUvgz1ILSXRbrEAjjR51bpy5_rY6NvNj2vcoUMez3wt2DXhNp4VRiBQoryJvTxzXGdm1uZBByPWHUNRQwtEiKA_59i1-d_uatt_ay3SEeHUppaUbkDhJ9Cc7/s1600/We_Can_Do_It!.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhob3e2WFLguBONh0pHqpjWFUvgz1ILSXRbrEAjjR51bpy5_rY6NvNj2vcoUMez3wt2DXhNp4VRiBQoryJvTxzXGdm1uZBByPWHUNRQwtEiKA_59i1-d_uatt_ay3SEeHUppaUbkDhJ9Cc7/s1600/We_Can_Do_It!.jpg" width="308" /></a></div>
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But the feminist layer of this movie is just so strong. Women are so clearly objectified in this movie - although the movie is self-aware, using it to make a point, so it's not mindless objectification. It's not meant to merely titillate or enrage, but invites dialogue.<br />
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Okay, spoilers ahead if you haven't seen the movie. so I'm warning you. If you haven't seen the movie yet and you plan to, well, don't read this!<br />
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*****SPOILERS AHEAD*****<br />
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Nathan, creates a female AI (Artifical Intelligence), named Ava. Later you learn he's created other prototypes before her, also sexy females. One of his creations is Kyoko, essentially a mute servant whose sole job is to look pretty - well, let's face it, sexy - and do house chores, but never to argue, never to interact, never to talk. It's also implied that she serves as a sexual companion to Nathan.<br />
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*****SPOILERS OVER*****<br />
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Oh Man, did this get my goat! As it was designed to, I think. Because if you could create truly sophisticated lifelike "robots" these would be some of the first uses - sexual gratification and menial labor. The cynic in me says that men would create women that would be objects, to be used, without complications, without problems, without souls.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvogpxZCLhyphenhyphenx5RrMOB76oGpKTLFRyfJt-lt2yUyBVoOxF4O7mQbBuy-5plFrswolA2K44m-Fd-PWmoWRpxsR0H9NBHv3jaHM1pmWIDkOKfMaP_H1K5pt4vTfVj7lAxaLtBwDpd35w_lqmU/s1600/housekeeper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvogpxZCLhyphenhyphenx5RrMOB76oGpKTLFRyfJt-lt2yUyBVoOxF4O7mQbBuy-5plFrswolA2K44m-Fd-PWmoWRpxsR0H9NBHv3jaHM1pmWIDkOKfMaP_H1K5pt4vTfVj7lAxaLtBwDpd35w_lqmU/s1600/housekeeper.jpg" width="502" /></a></div>
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Honestly, watching the movie it stirs up all these FEELINGS. Is that all we're good for as women - to be beautiful, sexy, to be sycophantic servants to men? Is that all they want us for? We're human beings! With needs and feelings and thoughts and talents and personalities. We're not pretty sexy dummies!<br />
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This might be a good place to interject that my husband does not make me feel that in any way. He's awesome! And I know many many other respectful amazing men out there. But it's more about general messages from society that women are valued the most for being beautiful and attractive, young and nubile.<br />
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It is the ultimate male fantasy, a woman who is attractive, sexually available at all times, graceful, perfect, domestic, quiet, no drama, no feelings, no interests of her own, she is completely centered around the man in her life. She worships him. She is his slave.<br />
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It's easy for me to get my feminist panties in a twist at this point. But wait, but wait. Hmmm. Let's be fair here. Okay?<br />
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What is the ultimate female fantasy? Well, if you read popular romance novels or watch chick flicks, it's pretty obvious. It is getting the ungettable man.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0roUZgO-Rrrab-ykinqFOKQrr9QT-m_d8wwnUmNWi3TfC8MNizQ7aW0uRvtX3OnwVmXQYnu3Kz0KeI_pLmYYD_WlB_aeDozXDBdKarDznXjlbWk5hvHjHSznYlQwdURh7i1-dFU0L6BT/s1600/ewan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0roUZgO-Rrrab-ykinqFOKQrr9QT-m_d8wwnUmNWi3TfC8MNizQ7aW0uRvtX3OnwVmXQYnu3Kz0KeI_pLmYYD_WlB_aeDozXDBdKarDznXjlbWk5hvHjHSznYlQwdURh7i1-dFU0L6BT/s1600/ewan.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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*Ewan McGregor in <i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0309530/" target="_blank">Down With Love</a></i></div>
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He's handsome, he's rich, he's powerful. Often he's a bad boy with commitment issues. Every woman wants him. But no other woman has been able to get him until YOU. Because you're just so unique and amazing and special and gorgeous and he adores you. Now suddenly he's willing to commit. He's all in. He's all yours. You're all he can think about all day and night. The wild man has been tamed. He worships you. He is your slave.<br />
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(Wanna know exactly what I'm talking about? See my <a href="http://bohemianseason.blogspot.com/2011/07/chick-flicks-bad-boys-and-good-girls.html" target="_blank">Chick Flicks list for movies featuring Bad Boys and Good Girls</a>.)<br />
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I have to admit, even my beloved Pride and Prejudice (helllloooo Mr. Darcy) and North & South (helllloooo Mr. Thornton) uses the fantasy of the ungettable man - a noble man, perhaps, but still ungettable, unless the right woman comes along, at which point he promptly turns into jello.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRNS0TA-_reHY1Fhvqp4_SXD_6QKHlhS6QtH64Iihe_eUngLFEQ4Oen0HKSjwRf7KDhkclmMBOipe4b7BdgSEk_YllCw0U6ftDkcd17TL1mxmWdRs3hhrHw2wuBir6dECe1uCc8aCLeARu/s1600/thornton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRNS0TA-_reHY1Fhvqp4_SXD_6QKHlhS6QtH64Iihe_eUngLFEQ4Oen0HKSjwRf7KDhkclmMBOipe4b7BdgSEk_YllCw0U6ftDkcd17TL1mxmWdRs3hhrHw2wuBir6dECe1uCc8aCLeARu/s400/thornton.jpg" width="263" /></a></div>
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So wait. Hmm. This female fantasy sounds a lot like the male fantasy, doesn't it? It's a little different, but in the end it comes down to another human being worshipping you - their whole life centers around you, for them, no one else exists but you.<br />
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And uh, that's not really love, is it? That's not a healthy equal relationship with another flawed human being. That's not love, that's a fantasy that's all about self-gratification and ego.<br />
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So while this movie made me want to shake my feminist fist at the sky in protest, in the end it just reminded me that male, female, none of us are perfect. We all want to be loved. And maybe we all want to be worshipped, just a little bit.<br />
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But that doesn't leave room for love - being part of someone else's life, with all the imperfections, sharing life that includes hurts, problems, inconveniences, forgiveness, self-sacrifice. To love you have to set aside self-gratification and ego, and it's the same, whether you're a man or a woman.vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-54503746726599671722015-04-15T09:05:00.000-05:002015-04-15T09:05:11.713-05:00Jane's table<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrtUnE2AekYF_JZnd531-nWxy74Kw4VxD42xXrPfu2kxSk0unQSSdayDNfrTN7t7v-MSK45XWMzetvufS2XBjkbfnjobjjXG_iqH2JuE_jiInV8-D2g67ZYM41fvakaS0k1w2PPXtXgAJ/s1600/Janestable.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrtUnE2AekYF_JZnd531-nWxy74Kw4VxD42xXrPfu2kxSk0unQSSdayDNfrTN7t7v-MSK45XWMzetvufS2XBjkbfnjobjjXG_iqH2JuE_jiInV8-D2g67ZYM41fvakaS0k1w2PPXtXgAJ/s1600/Janestable.jpg" height="640" width="446" /></a></div>
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I've been reading <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Home-Jane-Austen-Kim-Wilson/dp/0789212099/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1429106586&sr=8-1&keywords=at+home+with+jane+austen" target="_blank">At Home with Jane Austen</a> recently. Well, mostly looking at the pictures, but they are lovely pictures. One of them stood out. It's the picture of the table where Jane Austen wrote most of her novels, or so we are told. It's such a small, simple table and chair in such a small, simple room - a hallway really.<br />
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Supposedly she sat at this little table, squeezing in moments of writing here and there as she could, often hiding her work from passersby in the house, who didn't even know she was writing novels, but thought she was writing letters instead. She was a secretive novelist.<br />
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She had no laptop, no Scrivener, no writer's group, no writers conference, no blog, no Twitter, no Facebook. It was just her, and paper and ink, and a table.<br />
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And the thought of this cheers me, the sight of this little table. Because before Jane, those stories did not exist. The idea that a humble, unimportant little human being made these incredible stories that people have now enjoyed for hundreds of years - that she sat at this little table writing them, completely unaware of their future reception and her future glory, which she would never experience personally - it's awe inspiring.<br />
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Because sometimes as a writer I just feel so dang small. I wonder why I am doing this. I wonder if anyone will ever read what I wrote. And I wonder if anyone will ever enjoy it, much less love it. I wonder if it will ever matter. Sometimes the daunting nature of it all, the possible soul smashing rejection of it all, makes me want to give up.<br />
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And then I think of Jane at that little table. What if she had just given up? She had every logical reason to give up. But she wrote on because of passion, because of love, some inner drive. And millions of people have gotten to enjoy the fruit of that labor.<br />
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I'm not saying I'll be the next Jane. But Jane's table reminds me that I have no idea what I will be and it's not really my job to know - it's just my job to follow the muse and enjoy the journey.vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-54213015084231622062015-03-29T16:47:00.000-05:002015-03-29T16:49:17.980-05:00Early morning walks and comfort movies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj32LsPkCykiy3QoHbRzDh2cqJe6gjb2AQcllT3uISRv2VU8_kDMc5ybl2YkUPYu2d4q3Und4fjtw-YLYuWD5RVg0eUxXrpeeiDJvke7ErcCL-1ygAYuzECeor7TXbXL_UPi8UldkokTz0e/s1600/PPdawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj32LsPkCykiy3QoHbRzDh2cqJe6gjb2AQcllT3uISRv2VU8_kDMc5ybl2YkUPYu2d4q3Und4fjtw-YLYuWD5RVg0eUxXrpeeiDJvke7ErcCL-1ygAYuzECeor7TXbXL_UPi8UldkokTz0e/s1600/PPdawn.jpg" height="400" width="285" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For some reason I woke up this morning before seven. I decided to roll with it, made coffee and went for a walk. The sky was pink, the breeze was cool, the birds were singing and I felt like Keira Knightley in this scene from Pride and Prejudice, in spite of the distant hum of traffic on the highway and the suburban scenery.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I just re-watched that movie this week and it made me wish I could take long walks everyday over the British countryside.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I have to re-watch it every couple of years. It’s one of my comfort movies</span>. Sometimes I need the familiar, something I know I’ll love. But I’ve forgotten just how much I love that movie.<br />
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It’s a great story, I mean hello. <a href="http://bohemianseason.blogspot.com/search/label/Jane%20Austen" target="_blank">I have a shamefully documented love of Jane Austen</a>. But for me, this movie transcends that. It’s a piece of art.<br />
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It’s an impressionist painting made up of emotion. Every scene is so deliberate - the angles, the costumes, the light, the music. It’s a compressed version of the story. A haiku. Watching the movie feels almost as if you are looking into a tiny dollhouse that’s come to life. And the cast, the cast is amazing too. So many seasoned actors and so many who've blown up since!<br />
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I would love to sit down with Joe Wright for a few hours and just talk about how he made the movie and his artistic choices. I have questions, you know?<br />
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And I want to go to England.<br />
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And of course every time I watch the movie again, it makes me want to read the book again! Ha!<br />
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Do you have any movies like this in your life? Comfort movies you turn to again and again?<br />
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p.s. It’s now 4:30 in the afternoon and I feel more like this: <br />
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<br />vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-85202553551209498322015-03-27T16:32:00.000-05:002015-03-27T16:32:00.802-05:00Why self-publishing?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6AjwShe2fF0AAi-tQpf6aVxooNi3nSgzIvWBpHmGQsBzMHqOU1r1wcu8gkUgmzuQS9UwofbRlYpTlOa9rvmpPG5HzBG0oSJWZmQsD4a1IrtV1i-ifOQMbs0WHRFepQmDbrOLvrgcGRHq5/s1600/braveenough.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6AjwShe2fF0AAi-tQpf6aVxooNi3nSgzIvWBpHmGQsBzMHqOU1r1wcu8gkUgmzuQS9UwofbRlYpTlOa9rvmpPG5HzBG0oSJWZmQsD4a1IrtV1i-ifOQMbs0WHRFepQmDbrOLvrgcGRHq5/s1600/braveenough.jpg" height="640" width="419" /></a></div>
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<br />
So today I've finished editing 8 out of 18 chapters in my novel. More than halfway there. Cause for celebration, don't you think?<br />
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Maybe I shouldn’t be celebrating, because I’m nowhere near my original timeline, but I’m moving. Crawling, walking or running - movement is movement.<br />
<br />I still have the same excited energy I’ve had since I started working towards <a href="http://bohemianseason.blogspot.com/2015/02/audacious.html" target="_blank">my audacious goal</a>, but I’m starting to get nervous.<br />
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The editing and writing part is easy for me. Not so easy are the steps that follow - finding beta readers, creating an author web site, finding a professional editor and proofreader, figuring out how the heck to market this thing. I will admit, I’m a little scared. But I’m still moving!<br />
<br />So I thought I’d address a question… Why self-publishing?<br />
<br />This could be a very long answer, but I'm going to just share a key moment.<br />
<br />I’ve been thinking about this for a long time - to go the traditional publishing house route with an agent, or to self-publish an ebook. I’ve heard all sorts of arguments, pro and con on each side. The voices are deafening, the choices confusing. I’ve been debating with myself for YEARS. I’ve been uncertain. I’ve been afraid.<br />
<br />It seems as if it’s lots of hard work and risk and there are no guarantees of any<i> </i>level of success, no matter which road you take.<br />
<br />I was sitting on a Valentine’s Date with my husband, enjoying steak and a glass of red wine, pouring my little heart out, telling him all of my thoughts on the subject when I had a breakthrough.<br />
<br />I realized that I’ve been hoping for an easy, obvious answer - a series of steps I could take that would result in guaranteed success. (Can you hear me laughing at myself? Really. I’m so ridiculous.) But this, of course, does not exist. The fact is the odds of success are against me, no matter what I do. So it doesn’t really matter which path I choose - what matters is that I do something.<br />
<br />And suddenly… I felt free. Free to choose. I don’t have to have the perfect answer, because the perfect answer doesn’t exist.<br />
<br />I chose self-publishing because I don’t want to spend the next two years just trying to find an agent. Ugh. Did I just say that? Yes, I did.<br />
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I want to put my work out there. I want people to read it. That’s my dream. I hope it comes true.<br />
<br />I still have doubts. I’m still scared. But I’m moving!vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-29620031758710062212015-03-19T10:02:00.000-05:002015-03-19T10:02:38.656-05:00Favorites lately<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBcH7X9qEnKFjL2tnm5a53rzFCkI98oFRMTTQ2seEjjvQPbwvpmo2gr_PQpmpsm_4sca-CmU-vFRdRwXM2r654A_RQE27SKptvEaMmzPoLoQA6-Lsug82FzVykQUuDcC99ehbMAlxMMWA/s1600/newcookbook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBcH7X9qEnKFjL2tnm5a53rzFCkI98oFRMTTQ2seEjjvQPbwvpmo2gr_PQpmpsm_4sca-CmU-vFRdRwXM2r654A_RQE27SKptvEaMmzPoLoQA6-Lsug82FzVykQUuDcC99ehbMAlxMMWA/s1600/newcookbook.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />It's spring! And I'm ready for new things!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Back-Bakery-Made-Make---Yourself/dp/1579655564/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1426776149&sr=8-1&keywords=back+in+the+day+bakery+made+with+love" target="_blank">Back in the Day Bakery: Made with Love</a>. This lovely cookbook just arrived on my doorstep yesterday and I can’t wait to cook from it. Their first cookbook is one of my absolute forever favorites that I always turn to when I want something to be delicious.<br />
<br />
As I was searching for a picture of the book cover, I actually stumbled across the designer of the book cover's web site. Her name is <a href="http://emilyisabellajournal.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Emily Isabella</a> (what a lovely name, btw) and her work is lovely too.<br />
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I've been thinking about book covers lately (shocker!) and thinking how little we know about the actual people who design the art for books. So many books are so enjoyable due to their ingenuity, and yet we know so little about them.<br />
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I've stumbled across two other visual artists this week that I love too:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqV1728cEJ6kJcrCzS8jHvDU3AEGL6wVYxfFM2uIyfC6OnJZGqWZaIzpyTOpZ0fwXJHImFdtOot6M_BRxWkJzyy_4INv3o0v4d6tpizAZasn7zEfyp8hheuTLw91sFaCbVxl2nlJz6BCxy/s1600/MarkLovejoy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqV1728cEJ6kJcrCzS8jHvDU3AEGL6wVYxfFM2uIyfC6OnJZGqWZaIzpyTOpZ0fwXJHImFdtOot6M_BRxWkJzyy_4INv3o0v4d6tpizAZasn7zEfyp8hheuTLw91sFaCbVxl2nlJz6BCxy/s1600/MarkLovejoy.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://honestlywtf.com/art/mark-lovejoy/" style="text-align: start;" target="_blank">Abstract art by Mark Lovejoy</a><span style="text-align: start;">. It’s spring, and I love the riot of color! I just can't resist abstract art.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQMaC0tmiZx2r-nUtCC1fnuHKXgCOSmHH0HO48PJxLleaFlnhFLOhRgLrjvziahfHjaF9U6RKtoihDDa325Cvrjj_H4HDygCZ3VD3Z7Kxb4FRv_K5jZYQnK8uJaP_M3ohebwxx7M92qq21/s1600/EmmaBlock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQMaC0tmiZx2r-nUtCC1fnuHKXgCOSmHH0HO48PJxLleaFlnhFLOhRgLrjvziahfHjaF9U6RKtoihDDa325Cvrjj_H4HDygCZ3VD3Z7Kxb4FRv_K5jZYQnK8uJaP_M3ohebwxx7M92qq21/s1600/EmmaBlock.jpg" height="400" width="286" /></a></div>
<br />And I am now obsessed with <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/emmablock" target="_blank">Emma Block</a>. I stumbled across her work on Pinterest. So quirky and evocative. All the things she puts in her work are things I love: bicycles, cafes, baths, Paris, flowers, books, pastries, and feminine romantic sensibilities.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTfVjBNXQHf7anSF9I5DYiBTIcT2z6QXmAp-Pyli9g6VFNuD9fNWbEScH0uuq-aY932cWYQ349nkHHxdebbNNUh4LnEW8sVgQyBYs5o_e9FLDDLCmCeea37TsGyZO9J7uOdhyiRVUZiHi8/s1600/theglow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTfVjBNXQHf7anSF9I5DYiBTIcT2z6QXmAp-Pyli9g6VFNuD9fNWbEScH0uuq-aY932cWYQ349nkHHxdebbNNUh4LnEW8sVgQyBYs5o_e9FLDDLCmCeea37TsGyZO9J7uOdhyiRVUZiHi8/s1600/theglow.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.theglow.com/" target="_blank">*image via The Glow</a></div>
<br />
On a deeper note, this is the thing I've read online this week that impacted me the most:<br />
<a href="http://www.designsponge.com/2015/03/negativityonline.html" target="_blank">Negativity online: An essay inspired by over 200,000 comments on Design Sponge</a><br />
<br />This is just such a fascinating topic to me - so many layers here. I’ve struggled with feeling envy, inferiority, confusing what I really value in my own life - from what I see online.<br />
<br />
I love beauty, beauty, beauty - in art, in homes, in food, in fashion, in parties, in words - and I love to see it online.<br />
<br />
But I also love contentment. I love being happy, right where I am, right now! Being bombarded with visual perfection and high aspiring beauty on a daily basis gives me a bad case of “I-want-itis” and the dreaded blue “lesser-thans”.<br />
<br />I have my OWN triggers online - things that will send me into a spiral of intertwined rage and envy. If I have to see just ONE more blog or web site talking about “cool moms” or “hip moms” - who seem to be women who are young, beautiful, effortlessly slim, wealthy, NY or LA stylish, designers, or owners of boutiques, etc. who are always doing something in the photo like jumping on a bed in their OH SO killer hiply decorated kids room, having a pillow fight with their adorable and super stylishly dressed child, while being dressed themselves in vintage Pucci, with their perfectly blown out beach waves bouncing in the air - well, I will just scream. (I’m looking at you, <a href="http://www.theglow.com/" target="_blank">The Glow</a>.)<br />
<br />
I mean don’t we moms have enough to deal with, without saying “these moms are cool” leaving the implication that if you don’t meet up to their level, well, you’re not. Okay, okay. I’m 40 and I’m still worried about being cool. Pretty lame, huh? I am laughing (blackly) at myself.<br />
<br />Based on this rant, you might notice I might know a little something about the emotions that inspire people to leave negative comments on web sites. But I don’t. Not my thing. But it affects me in my own way. Emotional crap bombs I step into the moment I open up Bloglovin or Pinterest.<br />
<br />
It’s getting me thinking, how do I get a little more space from all this, how do I guard my mind from the crap bomb? How do I build contentment, instead of dreaded discontent? (Maybe stop looking at The Glow, I don’t know!)<br />
<br />So much I could say on this, but I just love how thoughtful this article is.<br />
<br />
p.s. Looking at The Glow, I want to judge, I want to envy, I feel my bile spilling over. I think the photographs here are a little like boudoir portraits for motherhood - not really really real, more of a highly crafted and edited view. But with a little distance I could also say it's a portrait of one moment in time, of the beauty of motherhood, of that little golden fading moment that will not last forever, of a mother's love.<br />
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vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-1317208969178198992015-03-13T16:40:00.000-05:002015-03-13T16:40:59.213-05:00Chaos, curves and flow<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Dear Writer's Diary,<br />
A progress update...<br />
<br />
So, I’ve set my audacious goal, to self publish my novel by June 1. And I’ve been working, I definitely have.<br />
<br />
But I'm laughing at myself already. I thought I could do any necessary re-writes and edits on my ENTIRE novel by March 14. (What was I <i>thinking</i>?)<br />
<br />
Well, it is now March 12. And I have only worked through Chapter Two. Chapter Two, my friends, Chapter Two. Ahem.<br />
<br />But I’m so pleased with what I’ve done with it - things I can see clearly now after several years of distance - that it’s impossible for me to be upset with how behind I am.<br />
<br />It takes the time it takes. It is what it is. What matters is that progress is happening.<br />
<br />Recently I started reading this book that I <i>so</i> wanted to like. It shall remain unnamed. But by the first chapter I knew I wasn’t liking it. It was a nice premise with a Jane Austen related twist to it, that made me <i>want </i>to like it. But the writing style was just so workmanlike. So dry. Dry bones. No juice. No zest. No quirk. No emotional tug, tug, tugging.<br />
<br />I flipped through the pages, reading a page here and there, hoping to find the words that would pull me in. No dice. I put the book down. I couldn’t bring myself to read any more. Not a word.<br />
<br />But what got me was the fear that I write just the same. All straight lines and no curves. All “and then he did this and then she said that and then he said this” and no heart-breaking, soul-aching poetry.<br />
<br />It’s hard, because I hear all this advice as a writer to cut, cut, cut, edit, edit, edit, make your work as minimalist as possible, as sleek as a seal, and so I cut and I trim and soon my writing glides through the water frictionlessly, because it has not an ounce of fat on it’s body, but the fat is what makes it juicy, what makes the difference between a humorless, artless, bore and the un-put-downable, unforgettable, underlinable book.<br />
<br />So I’m back, working again, working at the balance between athletic minimalism and chaotic beauty, wanting to find my voice, somewhere in the middle, beckoning my voice to surface, to be brave, be indomitable in the face of literary rules and cliches.<br />
<br />I’ve enjoyed spending time writing again. I wanted my mojo back and I feel like I have it. It is so much easier to find time to write now, here, there and everywhere. Everyday I set a goal to write for 45 minutes, even if it’s only 3 sets of 15 minutes, but I’m finding myself doing much more (when I can).<br />
<br />
I’ve forgotten how good it feels when my fingers are on fire, when I’m in the flow, lost in time. I’ve also forgotten how bad it feels to neglect other areas of my life. But everything is a trade off.<br />
<br />On to Chapter Three.<br />
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-89699869325149427422015-03-09T12:30:00.000-05:002015-03-09T12:30:11.107-05:00Looking back, looking forward<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMxSK4MzhM795sJl9h-ATumHzAKzF0ju_zppUsa4Hl6pz__h5MB9uVQFs-3z3HiKaJCWvJMqZkcdE4hx_HNOkrjo9gT-yUr4aDClrAkUYi1gaB9DD9wxTHhh2m4cQJd3Q0dIavmxb40A4t/s1600/MamaandWill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMxSK4MzhM795sJl9h-ATumHzAKzF0ju_zppUsa4Hl6pz__h5MB9uVQFs-3z3HiKaJCWvJMqZkcdE4hx_HNOkrjo9gT-yUr4aDClrAkUYi1gaB9DD9wxTHhh2m4cQJd3Q0dIavmxb40A4t/s1600/MamaandWill.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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<br />
I haven't written about this in awhile. Motherhood. And my little guy. He's about to turn three. Oh. My. Goodness. We've turned the corner, the baby period is solidly over, the little boy period is fully underway.<br />
<br />
Gone are the worries of early days - breastfeeding, slings, swings, blow outs, sleep problems. All of that seems so far away. My heart still aches at the preciousness of those cuddly baby days, but I'm glad to be moving forward. In the past year we've had overnight dates, we were able to travel and take real vacations. He's in Mother's Day Out now and these little breaks mean the world for me.<br />
<br />
But it's still hard in totally new ways. He doesn't cry all the time - but he whines, oh, how he whines. He's very melodramatic - about everything. When he wants something, he WANTS it, and stays on it until he gets it or just wears out. Sometimes he gets worked up, sassy, defiant, aggressive. Sometimes he brims over with little boy energy. The toddler emotions can be intense. I do my best to stay calm in the midst of the storm, but at the end of the day I often feel spent.<br />
<br />
There are beautiful parts of this phase too. It's so fun to watch him grow - to watch his vocabulary expand, to listen to him talk about his world with growing sophistication. He's becoming more independent in his play and can spend long stretches of time just playing with his cars and trucks. Speaking of which, he is OBSESSED with Cars, Lightnin McQueen, Mater, etc. It's kind of adorable.<br />
<br />
He has grown so big and tall - he's still big for his age. But he has those cute round cheeks, and he loves to snuggle, especially in the morning and at night, and he still demands to be picked up, and he says "I wuv you, mommy," and melts my heart. I look at him sleeping and hold my breath, seeing the relaxed expression on his face, his pale, almost translucent skin, the long light brown fringe of eyelashes. I can't resist taking pictures of him when I find him asleep. He's so beautiful. I love him so much sometimes that it hurts.<br />
<br />
I don't know what the future holds, what the next few years will be like as the mother of a preschooler and then a first grader. I do know, that each new phase has new joys and new challenges. I do know, that whatever it is, it won't last forever. It will change, again.<br />
<br />
So what have I learned in three years of motherhood? A LOT. Here's a random list:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Everything will change, so don't get too attached to anything. Don't ever think I have it totally figured out now. Don't think I ever will figure it out, or reach some stable point where it's not challenging anymore.</li>
<li>It is so important to ask for help, to ask for what I need and what I want. Yeah, I'm still working on this one. I don't know why, but it's hard for me.</li>
<li>I gotta take care of myself the best I can and not feel guilty about it. I've had to figure out what makes me feel good, what works for me, what my minimum requirements are. What is it that keeps me ticking, what is it that is worth investing in, that will pay me back with energy and endurance? In my case it is sleep, exercise, reading, journaling, date nights and time with friends.</li>
<li>The days of long stretches of time to myself are OVER, but I can still fit in little things that I love like audiobooks, a quick visit to a coffee shop or to the library. </li>
<li>It's worth the effort to pull myself together and spend the time styling my hair, putting on makeup, and dress up more. For the first two years I got pretty frumpy. I've figured out that it's worth it to spend a little time on appearances. It's not a waste of time. I feel the difference. </li>
<li>Motherhood of small children is a season. It will not last forever. But while I'm in it, I have to accept it for what it is, with all of the limitations. This is not a season of aggressive goals. This is not a season of being superwoman. This is a season of long hours, long hauls, and what's needed is patience, flexibility, and most often letting go of unreasonable goals and expectations. </li>
<li>Don't compare myself to other moms. I've had to come to grips with who I am as a person - that my capacity, my gifts, my skills, my needs are not the same as someone else's. I have spent so long feeling inferior because some other mom can have five kids and homeschool them and keep a blog and make homemade bread and handmade gifts for Christmas and who knows what else. I've realized I am not that mom. Not even close. I am in awe of those moms. But I am not one of them. I'm just not built that way. That's not my gift. </li>
<li>Watch my sleep. I've come to realize that sleep has a huge effect on me. For me sleep deprivation can show up as almost depression, a heaviness, an inability to cope. I will wonder why I'm feeling that way until I remember "Oh yeah, Will was up twice last night and I'm missing a few hours of sleep". I've struggled with "tired and wired" syndrome - where I need sleep, but can't relax. The more sleep deprived I am, the more pressure I feel, and thus the more anxious and frustrated that I can't just flip the switch and make it happen. I've had to learn how to wind myself down, just like a baby, with dim lights and a bedtime story! I can't always control how much sleep I get, but to just be aware helps. It also helps to regulate my caffeine. I'm super caffeine sensitive and while I love the jolt of energy it can make me edgy and bring on insomnia.</li>
<li>Loosen up the reigns. Don't try to control everything. In the early days of motherhood I wanted to figure everything out. I wanted everything to be controlled and systematic and predictable. I was always googling something on sleep, feeding, development, etc. Since I've figured out that figuring everything out and controlling everything is impossible I've relaxed into flowing with life with a small child instead of trying to systematize it.</li>
<li>Make some "mom friends" - for me a first time moms playgroup, and now MOPS have been lifesavers - just to know I'm not alone, just to know that so much of what I experience is straight up normal. But I try to have some deeper friendships too, too connect on things that aren't just about sleep schedules and ear infections and potty training, to talk about hobbies and books I love and heart stuff too. </li>
<li>Get out of the house. On a regular basis. Find parks, pools, kid friendly restaurants, libraries, story times, whatever. Just get out. </li>
<li>Be grateful for the little things. On a daily basis. Whatever I can be grateful for - my child, my house, my supportive husband, my favorite tv show (haha), chocolate. Yeah. Hang on to the good stuff instead of focusing on all the little annoyances. It's easy to get focused on all the things going wrong (the pancake mix on the floor, the play dough in my coffee beans, the whining, the infinite to do list) and just think life is horrible. It isn't. Remembering how much good there is brings me back to center.</li>
<li>Let go of the dream. Whatever kind of mom I thought I would be, whatever perfectionistic standards I've had for myself (the "development" activities I would do, the DIYs, the holidays, the nutritionally perfect diet for my child, etc) - I've had to let all that crap go. Just let it go. </li>
<li>Live the dream. Love my kiddo. And be grateful. This is it. This is the golden moment. Right here. Right now. This is the golden moment I will someday look back on with joy and sorrow that it's gone. I don't want to miss it.</li>
</ul>
vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-78968386761054745852015-03-04T22:56:00.000-06:002015-03-04T22:56:18.795-06:00Time travel and other awkward topics<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
So there is time travel in my novel.<br />
<br />
There. I said it.<br />
<br />
I mean, there is not just time travel in my novel - but my novel is all about time travel. My novel would fall apart if you took the time travel out.<br />
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And here's the thing. I get embarrassed whenever I tell anyone that.<br />
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People say "What's your novel about?" And if I have to mention time travel I really squirm.<br />
<br />
I know people - personally, intimately - my husband, several friends, and an agent or two I've spoken to at writing conferences - who just hate time travel story lines and are immediately turned off.<br />
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I get it. Time travel is so illogical, so impossible, so ridiculous, and 9 times out of 10 the story lines violate their own internal logic and it's just one tangled big fat mess.<br />
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And you know what? I love it. Because I'm one of those people that loves time travel. I'll eat it up with a spoon thank you. With hot fudge sauce on top.<br />
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<br />
<br />
So it's time to own up. Time to come out of the closet. Time to stop blushing and squirming. To hold my head high and say it again "There is time travel in my novel."<br />
<br />
I'm pretty much convinced that the world falls into two categories of people: those who love time travel stories and those who don't.<br />
<br />
I think it has something to do with being able to completely (mindlessly) surrender yourself to a story - even if it doesn't "make sense". It's about being swept away with characters, with adventure, with improbability, even impossibility - it doesn't matter - it's about a glorious story that makes your toes tingle. It is suspension of disbelief.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_Po9XDNKxeEczNLOUWSMZ1g5ovRRJvJbvi2lWZcmzoe9P0JKVfPxeSX9IOYtwZVD1gJN8S-E5_rDfFXt1_FT4UTiKfVGNzRf47_YfiLyDp-NpHgBvQWcvu1P9YtPgTI6nAwLTovA1Nzz/s1600/lizzie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_Po9XDNKxeEczNLOUWSMZ1g5ovRRJvJbvi2lWZcmzoe9P0JKVfPxeSX9IOYtwZVD1gJN8S-E5_rDfFXt1_FT4UTiKfVGNzRf47_YfiLyDp-NpHgBvQWcvu1P9YtPgTI6nAwLTovA1Nzz/s1600/lizzie.jpg" height="640" width="420" /></a></div>
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<br />
So me - I can hack a good toe tingler, time travel included. I can suspend disbelief with the best of them. That's probably why I love fantasy and sci fi (as well as Jane Austen, mysteries, thrillers, steam punk, and the occasional magical literary fiction).<br />
<br />
How about you? Are you in or out on time travel?<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
I also squirm when I admit my novel is centered around time travel because it sounds like a cheesy paperback, something with a dingy cover that you'd find in Half Price books, you know? And I am still not comfortable thinking of myself as a writer of a cheesy paperback.<br />
<br />
I think I've given up imagining myself as a literary fiction writer. I think. But hey, even Margaret Atwood has written sci fi, speculative fiction and the like. And she's Margaret Atwood, okay? (I love her).<br />
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In fact you could argue Margaret Atwood is a time traveler herself. Have you heard <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/sep/05/margaret-atwood-new-work-unseen-century-future-library" target="_blank">she's putting a novel into a time capsule, not to be opened until 2114</a>? Not that I even <i>want</i> myself or my writing put anywhere near the genius of Margaret Atwood, inviting comparison that would make me cry, and pack away my pen forever.<br />
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Anyway... do we HAVE to put everything in precise buckets? Literary fiction. Genre fiction. Sci fi. Fantasy. Romance. Or can you write beautiful words that also happen to be science fiction with a swizzle of romance in there too?<br />
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Sigh. Rambling rant over.<br />
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So you? Would you read a book that included time travel or drop it like a hot rock?vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-20880156820151407322015-02-25T11:39:00.000-06:002015-02-25T11:39:06.296-06:00Audacious<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've decided it's time to get audacious.<br />
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The thing is, I've been wanting to get my writing mojo back since my baby was born.<br />
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My baby (if you don't know) is close to three years old now. This mama gig has not been so easy as I thought it would be and my writing dreams have been hard to fit in.<br />
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I could sit here and flagellate myself for letting writing fall by the wayside for 3 years, 3 whole years, but, you know? But I'm going to take the opposite path - I'm going to give myself grace. I've been the doing the best I can, and that's okay.<br />
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But I'm ready for a new chapter.<br />
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<a href="http://becauseimaddicted.net/2014/03/ars-magika-mr-kate.html" target="_blank">*via Ars Magika by Mr. Kate on Because I'm Addicted</a></div>
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I've been trying the gradual way "write for 15 minutes a day" or write for an hour a few times a week. It just isn't cutting it.<br />
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I need to light a fire under my butt.<br />
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<b>I need an audacious goal.</b><br />
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I thought about setting a goal to write a first draft of a new novel. And believe me, it has appeal. I love the magic of unfurling a new story.<br />
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The thing is, I have a novel, a finished novel, that's been shoved in a drawer for 3 years. I worked hard on that. It's my baby. And I love it. And it feels like unfinished business. It's so close, this close to feeling done. Before I move on to something else, I want to close this chapter.<br />
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<b>So here goes, my audacious goal is to self-publish my novel by June 1. </b><br />
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This feels crazy to me. Maybe it's not. But it definitely feels audacious.<br />
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<br />vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-198853752923966942015-02-04T21:01:00.000-06:002015-02-04T21:01:53.331-06:00A little dose of quirky romanceBecause it's February. The month of love. Valentine's Day. And all that. And you're in need of a dose of romance, courtesy of Netflix.<br />
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Wait, you're not? Oh yeah, that's me.<br />
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Well in case you are too, thought I'd share two of my favorite little quirky romances I stumbled across on Netflix.<br />
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First up is <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2101569/" target="_blank">In Your Eyes</a>. Can I just say I sort of love Zoe Kazan? She's so pretty in such an atypical way. I need to see more of her movies. Also, can I say this movie in no way makes sense, but if you just go with it you'll enjoy the ride?<br />
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I won't describe the plot here or the setup because that would ruin it. I'll just say: telepathic connection, star-crossed lovers, worlds collide. It doesn't make sense, but it's the sort of movie that takes you back to that deep connection two people have when they fall in love - talking and baring their souls. It's not a romantic comedy, but a drama, more serious in tone.<br />
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Second is <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1808339/?ref_=fn_al_tt_2" target="_blank">Not Another Happy Ending</a>. I suppose you could call this one more of a romantic comedy. It's actually a Scottish movie. How often do you see one of those? And I can't help but love a movie featuring a redheaded writer girl. Hahaha.<br />
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The love story is quite fun - a sensitive morose writer and a prickly French publisher take a good long while to finally figure out they can't live without each other. She has this fun colorful vintage style and apartment. Like many romcoms, it's hard to take seriously, but I just loved the setting, the visual style, the clothes, and the quirky characters. Now - when am I going to Scotland? Seriously.<br />
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Both of these are available for instant streaming on Netflix!<br />
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Happy Valentine's, love me.vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-59308968561326060862014-12-30T09:39:00.000-06:002014-12-30T09:39:59.227-06:00Putting on my Minnie Mouse ears<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">We took a last minute trip to Disneyworld in December, a chance for family bonding and fun. This was my first trip to Disneyworld and I didn’t know what to expect. It was like an initiation. I knew nothing about parades, fireworks, character dining, fast passes and all these little ins and outs that make up the Disney experience. But I learned fast.</span><br />
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Going to Disneyworld isn’t just your normal theme park experience, it’s a celebration. I love people watching and seeing the groups of people there - families, wearing matching t-shirts and kids dressed up in costume - little girls in their princess dresses, and tiaras and hairpieces - boys in goofy hats or star wars t-shirts, carrying their stuffed ewoks. </div>
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I was surprised to see adults joining in too. Women wearing Minnie Mouse ears stood out to me. There were all sorts of designs and colors - simple black ears with red bows, stripes, polka dots, animal prints, sequins, feathers, roses, - the Minnie Mouse ears were practically an art form.
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The women who were wearing the Minnie Mouse ears seemed to be having the most fun - whether they really were or not - wearing those ears was a message that screamed “I’m happy to be here! I’m here to have fun! I’m not afraid to let my inner child out and let everyone else see it!”
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I was envious of these women and their bold declaration. I wasn’t wearing Minnie Mouse ears, but I easily could if I wanted to. They were around the corner in every gift shop, only $20 away. But the thought of wearing them was daunting. It didn’t feel like “me” - to put myself out there, to be exuberantly childish and playful, to invite attention or perhaps judgment, to outwardly wear celebration and joy, to go big.
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So the next morning before we set out, I bought a pair that felt most appealing - silver sequined Minnie Mouse ears. My husband was surprised to see me put them on - as surprised as I was - and my son was delighted and wanted to wear them himself. </div>
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I felt silly, but those ears changed me. Yes, that headband was uncomfortable, but when I was wearing the ears I had a better time, a better day. Those ears were a declaration that I was here to have fun, a reminder to myself.
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Because you see, I’m not really a theme park person - the noise, the crowds, the overstimulation, the long lines, the endless gift shops, the overpriced fast food - that can turn me into a serious grouch, fast. I’d much rather be sitting in a cafe sipping a latte and writing in my journal in peace and quiet. It’s easy to be cynical in a theme park, to be judgmental, to be above it all.</div>
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But I was here. We decided to go to Disneyworld - to have fun as a family. And I wanted to have fun - not just for myself, but also for my husband and my son.
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Putting on those ears was an outward declaration of the woman I wanted to be - lighthearted, playful, flexible, optimistic - even if I didn’t feel like her yet. Putting on those ears, for me, wasn't totally natural, it was a deliberate choice.</div>
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It’s made me think about how I move through my life when I’m not at Disneyworld. Who am I? Who do I want to be? Do I want to sit on the sidelines? Do I want to avoid attention? Am I afraid of being myself out loud? Am I afraid to be too exuberant, to be too happy, too playful?
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How can I go through life wearing my Minnie Mouse ears? How can I be the woman I want to be, how can I choose her, even if I don’t always feel like her yet? </div>
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Disneyworld is a rare experience, a world of staged fantasy, but now that I'm back in the "real world" I want to hang on to what I learned and choose happiness everyday, even when it doesn't come naturally to me.</div>
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vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264220879054830337.post-9463080167576504582014-12-16T08:36:00.004-06:002014-12-16T08:36:39.766-06:00Adrift in daydreams of frostingToday I am struck by the urge to bake.<br />
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It started with something simple enough. Sugar cookies. Decorating Christmas cookies with my 2 year old is on my must-do holiday list this year.<br />
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But then I started thinking about chocolate chip cookies, and sandwiching them together with pink buttercream frosting. I started thinking about icing bags and decorator tips and sprinkles and food coloring.<br />
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I started thinking about making hot chocolate mix and homemade vanilla marshmallows (something I've never done).<br />
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I started thinking I should whip up a batch of pumpkin chocolate chip muffins for the freezer.<br />
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And maybe I should make some cupcakes too - <a href="http://www.cookingclassy.com/2013/04/lavender-cupcakes-with-vanilla-bean-frosting/" target="_blank">vanilla bean, swathed in swirls of lavender frosting</a>.<br />
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Help! Help me! I'm lost in daydreams of Martha Stewart and the Back in the Day Bakery.<br />
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Sometimes I think I missed my calling as a pastry chef.<br />
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All of this will not happen today. There is laundry to do. And exercise besides, lest my bottom catch up with my baking.<br />
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Happy baking holidays to you!<br />
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p.s. We did end up baking sugar cut out cookies. Yay! The rest will have to wait.vmichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15545130837372429902noreply@blogger.com0