Category: being present

A Final Look at Filling the Well

Here’s a last look at what some writers do when they’re not at their desks, and how that time doing something completely different impacts, informs or deepens their writing.

Lena Coakley: I love swimming, and I find it really helps get me unstuck when I have writers’ block. I’m convinced that the repetitive motion is a form of meditation. For me there is nothing like it to unravel a plot knot or come up with a fresh, new idea. Lena Coakley is the author of Worlds of Ink and Shadow, coming January 2016 from Harper Collins Canada/Amulet Books www.lenacoakley.com

Lindsey Carmichael: I love photography. I have no art skills whatsoever, but I can still create beautiful images using a camera. This visual storytelling is just for me, so it doesn’t have the pressure that comes with writing. But as a nonfiction author, I find that photography has helped me think about how the words I write work together with the pictures that illustrate my books, creating something bigger than either could be alone. I find that while I’m writing, I’m actively thinking about what kinds of images – photographs, charts, diagrams, etc. – could be used to add depth and richness to the story I’m trying to tell. Lindsey Carmichael is the author of Fuzzy Forensics: DNA Fingerprinting Gets Wild (Alopex Editions) www.lecarmichael.ca

 Loris Lesynski: What often inspires my writing is talking to strangers. I have always done so, but lately I’ve stepped it up considerably, and I strike up conversations (as soon as I gather the other person is receptive) all day long everywhere I go, gently but quite deliberately. It is so much fun, and I’m told delightful, unique and often touching anecdotes from other people’s lives. I do assess the stranger before I say anything, and so far I haven’t annoyed anyone nor come across unstoppable bores. This all makes my day, from stores to library to street corners, much more interesting than it’s ever been, and informs my writing in many ways. Loris Lesynski is the author of Crazy About Hockey (Annick Press) www.lorislesynski.com

Lea Tassie: I play bridge. Bridge has nothing to do with writing, but it certainly concerns the mind and the mind is key to writing. Bridge is a complex game that requires intense concentration, and that’s the secret. When I play bridge, I don’t think about anything but the game. Nothing else. Not about writing, or food, or sex or the weather. Which means that after, say four hours, my mind is rested. Sure, it’s tired of counting cards and watching my opponents’ faces and bodies for revealing clues about their bidding or strategy, but it’s had a complete rest from writing and the million questions I try to answer every day with my prose. And, having rested, my mind then begins, with renewed energy, to solve old problems or create new plots and characters. Lea Tassie is the author of  Shockwave (Felinity Press) www.leatassiewriter.com

Ann Marie Meyers: Of all the arts, singing is the one that engages my five senses fully and resonates within me. Sometimes, I get lost in the music and find myself in a place where everything is possible, where no barriers exist, and where dreams are waiting to materialize. That’s the place I love to be in to receive ideas and to work out snags and plot in my manuscripts. Ann Marie Meyers is the author of Up in the Air (Jolly Fish Press) www.annmarie-meyers.com

And finally, it’s my turn. Like Frieda Wishinsky and Alice Valdal, I find gardening fulfilling on both a personal level and professional level. On August 5th, Frieda talked about some of the parallels between the two activities: starting out hopeful, waiting and editing, never knowing exactly what you’ll end up with. Recognizing and accepting the things we cannot control (weather, slugs, reviews, sales) but persisting anyway. Last week, Alice talked about how gardening reminds her of her true self and restores her spiritual balance. I can relate. Gardening connects me to something far bigger than me and reminds me of what’s truly important in life. At the same time, it’s also grounding and physically fulfilling. Many times an important character insight or the answer to a plot knot comes when I’m digging in the dirt. Gardening also serves to remind me that seedlings need the right conditions to germinate and grow, in the same way fledgling story ideas need space and care;  that weeding (like story revisions) is necessary; that trends come and go but a beautiful garden, like a good story, is always appreciated. Gardening acts as a reminder that showing up regularly is crucial. And it always brings home the fact that most of the fun is in the act of doing regardless of the final outcome.

 

 

More Filling the Well

Taking a break from any kind of work – even writing – is an important part of renewal. This week another five authors share what they like to do in their down time and how it impacts or informs their writing.

Sylvia McNicoll: Lately I have been attending Improv classes with my 14 year-old grandson, Hunter. My acting may not be improving, but I’m collecting some very interesting characters for future reference.Sylvia McNicoll is the author of Best Friends Through Eternity (Tundra) www.sylviamcnicoll.com

Alice Valdal: In answer to your question, I would say gardening. I’m a farm girl at heart and working in the soil, planting and harvesting is about more than growing beans and potatoes for the table. The work takes me home, reminds me of my true self, restores my spiritual balance. I never set out to write about home, but throughout all my writing, that theme repeats . . . coming home, finding home, building home, longing for home . . . it sounds a foundational note in all my stories. So, I garden, and write stories in my head and smile as I remember endless summer days as a child when my only companion was my imagination and we had a great time together.Alice Valdal is the author of The Man for Her (Kensington & Amazon) www.alicevaldal.com

Janet Whyte: As Langara Library’s media technician, I buy all of the College’s DVDs and sometimes catalogue them, too. Through films, I travel around the world and meet people I’d likely never otherwise know. This week, I met a young woman from Guyana who, despite a disabling health condition, works as a bicycle mechanic. I listened to a minister from Toronto who’s been fighting for gay rights his whole life. And I encountered a homicidal stockbroker I’d rather not spend too much time around! The people I learn about through documentary, educational, and feature films diversify my thinking. Sometimes they reappear in my stories, and sometimes they don’t. But they all become part of my world. Janet M. Whyte is the author of Shot in the Dark (Lorimer)      www.lorimer.ca/childrens/Books/2849/Shot-in-the-Dark.html

Lisa McManus Lange: This year I have taken up the sport of archery – something completely different for me. I’m a creative person, not sporty, and little did I know the historic sport would boost my writing. In trying something completely new – something totally different and outside my comfort zone – I have found a confidence and willingness to experiment in my writing I didn’t have before. Although I am a strong believer in the concept of creativity begets creativity, I have come to believe that doing something completely different, and perhaps NOT creative once in a while, enhances my writing output and idea flow.Lisa McManus Lange is multi-published and her next release will be in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Think Possible. www.lisamcmanuslange.blogspot.com

 Lee Edward Fodi: I’ve always enjoyed traveling and exploring new places. I travel to many places for research and, as an author and specialized creative writing teacher, to some exotic places to deliver programs. Experiencing new cultures and settings definitely inspires my own work and provides me with a lot of fuel for the fantasy worlds I construct. Through the years, I’ve become better at becoming a “recorder”. With my camera and my sketchbook, I record everything that is of interest to me—regardless of whether I know exactly what that inspiration will be used for. The other thing I’ve noticed as I’ve gotten older is that it has become harder to turn off my “inspiration radar.” Last year, I went to Hawaii for an outright vacation with no intention of doing any research or writing. Having said that, I did make sure to pack my notebook since it’s my rule to never get on a plane without it. And it’s a good thing! Once I reached Hawaii, I was so entranced by the variety and scope of the flora and fauna that I was furiously scribbling long passages in my notebook and making detailed sketches for new characters, creatures, and settings. So much for vacation.Lee Edward Fodi is the author of Kendra Kandlestar and the Search for Arazeen(Simply Read Books) www.kendrakandlestar.com

Helaine Becker: Everything I know about writing I learned from running. I’m a terrible runner, mind you. Slow, and prone to griping. But I run anyway.Every run stinks. I can think of a million other things I’d rather be doing – like, hmmm, lying in bed with a book. But I run anyway.Running hurts. It hurts my tender feet. My wonky hip. My lazy lungs. But I run anyway.And even though I hate it hate it hate it most of the time, I run.Writing is the same as running. It hurts and I hate it and its always a slog uphill. But I keep at it. Because running has taught me success is more about heart than talent. It’s taught me to keep plugging away, and that if I stick with it, I will get where I need to be in the end. And it will feel so, so grand when I do.Everything I know about writing I learned from running. Helaine Becker is the author of Dirk Daring: Secret Agent (Orca Book Publishers) www.helainebecker.com

 

Filling the Well

The dog days of August are here which means many of us are kicking back and relaxing. The importance of having regular down time has been well documented. It improves our physical and mental health, it encourages productivity when we return to work, and it fires our creativity. With that in mind, I thought I’d ask other writers how they fill the well. Stop by on Wednesday for the next three weeks as writers share what hobby or activity inspires, informs or deepens their writing.

JoanstiltsCanada Day 2015 - HawainJoan Marie Galat: As an author and freelance writer/editor, I spend way too much time on the computer. After a number of hours each day, I feel I simply can’t stare at the screen any longer. That’s when I strap on my stilts and go for a walk around the neighbourhood. The act of staying balanced clears my head more completely than any other activity. I return to the screen refreshed and often find a creative writing problem solved just by having taken my concentration off the topic. Joan Marie Galat is the author of Branching Out, How Trees are Part of Our World  (Owlkids)  http://www.joangalat.com/

Frieda Wishinsky: I love gardening. It’s a lot like writing. You start out hopeful, there’s a lot of waiting and editing and you never know what the results will be. Weather, insects and critters may damage your hard efforts. You need to respect “white space” and not overload the garden with “stuff”. But when it’s working, it’s magical, although ever changing. But even when things don’t work out as you’d planned (and dreamed), there’s always the hope of tomorrow, or next week– or next year. Frieda Wishinsky is the author of Avis Dolphin (Groundwood Books) http://www.friedawishinsky.com

Gisela Sherman: For some years now, I’ve really enjoyed acting. Like writing, it makes me dig into character, backstory, motivation and even dialogue. It’s also a nice change to get out from my writing desk and meet other interesting people. I come back replenished. Gisela Sherman is the author of The Farmerettes (Second Story Press) www.giselasherman.com

Ellen Schwartz: My other passion is dance. It’s non-verbal, so it gives me an escape from the words and sentences churning through my brain. And yet it’s expressive in exactly the same way writing is. Dance feeds my creativity. Ellen Schwartz is the author of Avalanche Dance (Tundra Books) www.ellenschwartz.net

Kristin Butcher: A hobby which is as addictive for me as writing is genealogy. I can spend entire days searching for family members—poring over parish records, scouring old newspapers, digging through photos, or tramping through cemeteries. In a way, trying to piece together the lives of people who died hundreds of years ago is like solving a mystery, and each time I stumble across another piece of the puzzle, I get super-excited. Since my favourite books to read for pleasure are mysteries and historical fiction, genealogy fuels my writing fire too. I am forever expanding my historical knowledge and the techniques I’ve learned in genealogy help me to create fictional mysteries. In fact, my most recent book (In Search of Sam) is about an 18-year-old girl who travels British Columbia trying to uncover her father’s past with nothing to guide her but a photograph, an old letter, a half-heart necklace, and a name. Kristin Butcher is the author of In Search of Sam (Dundurn) www.kristinbutcher.com 

 

A Different Perspective

firehaze-islandviewYou know that feeling when you come home from being away, take a look around your house and see it through fresh eyes? That happened to me last Sunday, only I hadn’t been away and my eyes were anything but fresh. They were scratchy and bloodshot from all the smoke in the air.

Extreme heat and record breaking temperatures have led to nearly 100 active wildfires in B.C. Half the province is sitting at a high danger rating, verging on the edge of extreme. It’s scary and worrisome, particularly for firefighters and for those living close to the hot zones. But it’s also impacting Vancouver and Victoria. A massive blanket of smoke has hovered over both cities for days. We’ve experienced wildfire smoke before, but nothing like this.

It started early Sunday. By noon, the sky was a dull, apocalyptic orange. There was a sense of expectancy in the air, a hush almost. The birds were silent. There were no bees buzzing, no flies flying. And the colors in the garden were . . . just off. The greens were almost fluorescent in their intensity. Our string of white LED patio lights, which are normally invisible during the day, took on a brilliant, otherworldly blue glow. My blue lobelia and blue salvia patens flowers turned a rich amethyst purple.

It was oddly surreal, like stepping outside the back door and landing in the Twilight Zone. Or waking up and finding a giant orange filter has been placed over your entire world. The smoke cover cooled things off and without the bees buzzing around gathering nectar, I spent some time outside picking raspberries, weeding the lettuce bed and doing a little tidying. It was a different perspective alright. A new look at old digs, so to speak.

The smoke is starting to clear – which is a good thing – but I hope the new perspective holds. I have a couple of manuscripts waiting for a set of fresh eyes. Maybe I should read them wearing extra-strength sunglasses. That orange glow worked wonders on the garden.

 

Summer Immersion

I hope you’re enjoying the summer. We took a quick trip across the water to Vancouver recently.  We saw family, ate at a few great restaurants (Ten Ten Tapas and Espana – both highly recommended) and we rode our bikes all the way around Stanley Park. The weather cooperated and we had a fabulous time. I took no pictures while we were cycling but I remembered to pull out the cell phone during a trip to Granville Island.

From the aquabus on the way there:

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Checking out the bakery. Can’t decide on a flavor?

 

 

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Towering cherry trees.

 

 

 

 

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The only way to eat chocolate. With lavender.

 

 

 

 

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Don’t hate on the geese. They’re parents too.

 

 

 

 

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Making concrete look pretty.

 

 

 
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Peony love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And so to bed.june 2015 140

 

The Lost Land of Re-entry

DSC00073Coming home was wonderful. I had an amazing gift waiting. Mr. Petrol Head had dug and turned and weeded and prepped all the garden beds. It took him two weekends and most of a week of evenings to get them ready for me to seed and plant. I hadn’t expected it and I was incredibly grateful as I’d pretty much resigned myself to a smaller garden and a much later start this year. But before I could get outside, I had a few last minute copy edits to finish for Stepping Out, royalty statements to sort through, a number of business issues to deal with and critique pages to read for a writer’s retreat I attended the weekend after I got back.

Re-entry and getting back to the writing routine was taking longer than normal. I didn’t question it; I expected the first week back to be busy. But as I planted the garden, it occurred to me that my resistance was about more than having too much on my plate.

I had some heavily pot bound tomato plants to get into the ground. As I broke apart the root ball, set them into rich, loamy soil and watered them in, I thought about how much they’d appreciate their new digs. Once they got over the initial shock of being transplanted, they’d be quick to take advantage of the unlimited space to grow, sending out new shoots and eventually – hopefully – setting luscious tomatoes we’d gorge on all summer long. Being unconstrained would result in a significant transformation.

I realized I needed a transformation of my own. My trip away wasn’t a rest by any means, but it was enough of a break to point out that I was feeling pot bound too. Boxed in by the never-ending demands of the publishing industry . . . by demands I’d put on myself. I’ve been writing for two decades. My twentieth book will be published next year. The publishing landscape looked quite different when I started out. There was no twitter, Facebook, Instagram or LinkedIn. Blogs were a thing of the future. So were e books. Marketing and promotion was done, for the most part, by publishers. A book a year was considered a respectable output. These days it’s not unusual for writers to produce two, three, even four titles a year. Some of those might be shorter books but the goal is clear: get your name out and keep it there. While you’re at it, make sure you have a social media presence, engage with your readers, market and promote yourself. And make sure you’re reachable by email 24/7 too.

I love to write. It’s as necessary to me as breath. I appreciate email. It’s fun to share on social media. And the changing landscape of publishing is creating opportunities I couldn’t have dreamt up two decades ago. It’s all good.

Except when it isn’t.

Opportunity and possibility often bring growth. Slow, steady growth is a good thing. Wild, exuberant growth may be exciting to watch but it can lead to trouble. When potted plants grow too fast and their roots don’t have enough space, they become pot bound. Eventually the soil becomes so compacted that the roots can’t take up nourishment and they fail to thrive.

The market demands writers grow quickly these days: set daily word counts, produce more books, maintain a mailing list, attend conferences. Do, do, do. Go, go, go. And without enough down time or space in our days to fill the well or feed the muse or simply refuel, we risk getting pot bound ourselves. We risk burnout.

Root disturbance can be a good thing. It leads to change and growth. So now that my outside garden’s planted, it’s time for a little inner root disturbance. It’s time to regroup, rethink, reprioritize. To examine my boundaries and look at what’s important on both a personal and professional level. To incorporate a little more reading time, puttering time, beach time, alone time.

A plant needs space in which to grow. People do too. So this summer I’m giving myself the gift of space. I’ve always seen it as a bit of a luxury. But thanks to another lesson from the garden, I realize it’s a necessity.    root-bound-tomato-plant-224x300

 

Comfort Books for Writers

for_writers_onlyBGSometimes all you need is comfort: a warm blanket, a loving hug, a dog cuddle first thing in the morning.

Or a book.

I tried to cull my bookshelves last week. Tried being the operative word. I have more books than I have shoes, sweaters, and probably underwear too (I also have an embarrassing number of spices and condiments in my kitchen – Ras el hanout anyone? – but that’s not relevant to writing unless you care to know how I eat; the short answer is very, very well).

But back to books.  The problem started in early January when we took down the Christmas tree and put away the holiday decorations. You know that delicious feeling of spaciousness you suddenly have in the New Year?

I know it too. It’s one of the comforts of Bloatuary January. Except I didn’t feel it this year. Sometime between October and December, my book pile had babies. I’m pretty sure each title had triplets (Don’t even ask about my Kindle).

I needed to find space. So I went through a couple of bookshelves and pulled some titles to donate to the Goodwill.  In the process, I stumbled over books I hadn’t looked at in a while.  And one of those books brought me so much comfort at the time I read it I decided to put together a list of books specifically written to comfort writers.

These aren’t books geared to craft or business, though many writing books on those subjects also include terrific advice and comforting thoughts.  I wanted books where comfort, insight or advice, was the primary goal. Think of these books as a New Year’s tonic. A writer’s jump start. The equivalent of a warm blanket, a loving hug or a cuddly puppy.

Rejection, Romance & Royalties: The Wacky World of a Working Writer by Laura Resnick.  Sharp, funny, honest and insightful, these essays on the writing life cut right to the heart of the joys, sorrows and rewards of being a writer.  On my keeper pile and never leaving.

The Mindful Writer: Noble Truths of the Writing Life by Dinty W. Moore. Though it’s small enough to fit in a back pocket or a bag, don’t let size fool you. This small book packs a big punch. The Mindful Writer starts by outlining the four noble truths of the writing life and then goes into four key areas:  the writer’s mind, the writer’s desk, the writer’s vision, and the writer’s life. A wonderful source of inspiration and insight.

The Writer’s Book of Hope by Ralph Keyes.   According to Keyes, inspiration isn’t nearly as important to the successful writer as tenacity.  And encouragement and hope are cornerstones to keeping that tenacity alive. Drawing on his experience as both a writer and teacher of writing, Keyes details some of the tactics well-known writers have used to maintain hope, particularly during difficult times.  Enriching and full of encouragement.

For Writers Only by Sophy Burnham. One of the first ‘comfort’ books I ever bought on writing, and still a favorite. A collection of thoughts from many great writers interspersed with Burnham’s own observations on everything from nerves and letting go to audience, productivity, and aloneness.

Writing from the Inside Out by Dennis Palumbo. Since Palumbo is both an author and a psychotherapist, he brings a unique empathy and insight into the writing life. A positive and fresh take on topics like envy, rejection, loneliness and the joy of commitment.  Wise, compassionate and funny.

 Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott.  In spite of the fact that Lamott is one of my all-time favorite writers, I wrestled with whether to include this title because Bird by Bird does have a number of chapters directly relating to craft. However, in most cases they go well beyond craft, and reading them is more like having coffee with your favorite writer friend. That aside, this book is a must have for these three comfort chapters alone: Broccoli, Perfectionism and Radio Station KFKD.

Change Agents and Writers

happy-new-year-228245Tomorrow marks the beginning of a new year. This year, more than most, I’m looking forward to a fresh start.  If you’ve stopped by looking for the cyber equivalent of fireworks and champagne, or maybe a cyber touch of rainbows and unicorns, you won’t find them here. Not today. Not this year.

2014 was bookmarked with the death of two friends I’d cherished for decades. One died at the start of 2014 and another one just a few weeks ago.  Their departure has left me in a contemplative state of mind. It’s weird when friends take the celestial highway ahead of us. There’s disbelief and shock. There’s grief. There’s also the sense of one’s own mortality spinning ever closer.  For me, there’s also thankfulness that I was lucky enough to know them.  Bob and Larry both gave me a boot in the butt when I most needed it. They were change agents on my writer’s path.

I met Bob before I’d written anything other than news copy. He was music director at the radio station; I was news director.  He had a wicked sense of humor, and wisdom beyond his years. When things started going south for me and I knew it was time to quit, I told him what I wanted more than anything was to write.

“Why aren’t you?” he asked.

“What if I don’t get published?” I said.

“So what? Do it anyway,” he said.

“I don’t know what to write about.”

“You’ll figure it out,” he said. “Fiddle around. Have some fun.”

I quit the station, spent a few months fiddling around, and then we moved – very suddenly – to Winnipeg.  I met Larry, and his wife, Lois.  We connected through a non-denominational spiritual group, and we met every week to talk about . . . well . . . stuff. The big stuff. The small stuff. How we could be better at all of ‘our stuff.’   By then, I was working in television which fed me rich ego cookies but didn’t satisfy my soul. Since we talked about soul type stuff, I again mentioned my desire to write.  This time, I mentioned a specific story – a time travel romance that was so quirky and out there, I wasn’t sure how I’d sell it.

“So,” Larry said. “What does selling have to do with it?”

“I’d like people to read it,” I said.

“Maybe only five people will read it,” he replied. “Or maybe 500,000 people will. Why should that matter anyway?  What should matter is the joy you have doing it.”

We moved back to the coast. I started that book and I finished it. But I did nothing with it. I started other books, and finished them too. Some were published. One was launched in Winnipeg, and I flew back for the event. Lois and Larry came. They asked about my time travel. “It’s written,” I said.  “But I haven’t done anything with it yet.”

“You will,” he said. “When you’re ready.”

Whenever I saw Bob, he’d ask about the writing too. He was happy for me that I’d taken the leap and followed my heart.  In the last few years, we talked about the changes in the industry and how they were impacting authors. As a friend, he was supportive. As a musician, he could relate. But at the end of the day, for Bob it was about making the music, not worrying about distribution or sell through, reviews or awards.

Larry was a musician too. Like Bob, he was dedicated to practising his craft, and he loved to perform. Though they never met, both Larry and Bob were all about enjoying the process, about having fun in the moment. Neither of them lived in a bubble; they understood my writer’s need to make a living. They acknowledged that love doesn’t pay the bills. That some attention had to be paid to the business side of art.  But too much attention to that goal detracted from what they believed should be my most important goal of all: telling my story the best way I could and letting go of the results. They weren’t writers – or editors or agents or publishers – yet they taught me an essential publishing truth: the story should always come first. Anything else could be worked out later.

There’s a saying that’s popular these days about someone being the kind of friend you can call up in the middle of the night and they will come and help you hide the body. That, it’s suggested, is a true friend.

Maybe. Or maybe not.

Larry and Bob were true friends, but there’s no damn way they’d help me hide a body. They’d come in the middle of the night – of that I have no doubt – but after one glimpse of that body, they’d pick up the phone and call the cops. Then they’d stand beside me no matter how bad things got and no matter what I’d done. And they’ve love me in spite of it.  They’d do it in the same way they called me out on my fears about writing all those years ago without making me feel small for having them.

Their belief in the people they cared about was genuine and absolute. They saw your best self. Even if your bad self was rocking the dance floor.

In the next week or so, I’ll be heading to Bob’s funeral. It’s a reminder for me to live life while I can. To enjoy my writing process, to have fun in the moment and to let go of the results.

Whether you’re a writer or a reader, or whether you stumbled over this blog by mistake, I hope 2015 is rich with all the things that count: time with whatever work brings you pleasure, time with family who love you unconditionally, and time with friends who can propel you down whatever path you choose with the occasional loving kick in the butt.

It helps if they take calls in the middle of the night. And if they can watch your bad self rocking the dance floor once in a while too. Trust me on that.

Get Your Turtle On

turtleA few weeks ago, I talked about NaNoWriMo and the combination of awe and fatigue I feel when I think of producing that many words so quickly.  At the same time, I also admitted that I wanted to boost my productivity, including my daily word count, and I was determined to find a way.

After dumping some bad habits I picked up over the last few months, my productivity is up.  But my word count still isn’t anywhere near as high as I’d like it to be. Part of that is my process (see last week’s blog post) but the other part of it is, well, a little more depressing.  I realized the other day that I’m more like the tortoise than the hare.

And, sure, the tortoise eventually wins the race but honestly, I’d rather be a hare. Hares have a lot more dash and flash than turtles.  They’re sleek and fast and productive. Plus, they’re cute. Turtles, not so much. They’re ground creepers. Members of the reptile family. Turtles have thick, leathery skin, an armored shell, and they are slow.  Painfully so.

I can’t remember the last time I received a compliment for going slow. Or gave one out. I like fast. I celebrate fast.  I hate getting stuck behind the slow driver on the highway. I’m impatient if I have to wait more than two or three minutes when I make a phone call. And let’s not even talk about all the waiting around on book submissions.

Unless it’s a soup that needs simmering or a garden that needs growing, we embrace fast.  It’s a mark of pride if our kids talk or walk at an early age. If our dogs finish first in agility. If we get our Christmas shopping done in October.  If we write three books a year instead of two. Or two books instead of one.

No wonder the thought of being a turtle held little appeal.  Then I found a book about totem animals. Here’s what I learned about the symbolism behind turtles:

Turtle wisdom is linked to the power of Earth. It gives us the ability to stay grounded, even in moments of chaos. It is the way of peace, whether it’s inviting us to cultivate peace of mind or walk our path in peace.

Turtle wisdom is also linked to the spirit of water. Since turtles are fast and agile in water, it has much to teach us about the fluid nature of emotions.

Turtle wisdom encourages us to slow down, to pace ourselves, and to take a break to look within.

Turtle wisdom lends us determination, persistence, emotional strength and understanding.

Turtle wisdom teaches us to travel light . . . to let go of those things we have outgrown.

Because the turtle carries its home on its back, turtle wisdom teaches us to own our space and to take all the time we need to do whatever it is we feel called to do.

Turtle wisdom encourages us to remember that we there is no such thing as failure as long as we are inching towards our goal.

Turtle wisdom reminds us to enjoy the journey and to remember that life is a never-ending process of arrival.

Turtle wisdom reassures us that we have all the time in the world . . .  and that we are always where we are supposed to be.

After reading all of that, I suddenly didn’t mind identifying with the turtle. After all, the turtle is also the symbol for longevity. And I’m in this gig for the long haul.  So my advice? Get your turtle on. And forget about the hare.

Giving Thanks

thankful 2 It’ll be Canadian Thanksgiving in a few days and my thoughts are turning, as they usually do in the fall, to the things I’m most thankful for. This time last year, I blogged about why I’m thankful to be a writer. And many of those same things (the joy of playing with words; the ability to ask endless questions; regular and mandatory reading; wearing yoga pants and slippers to work) still apply.

But I’m feeling more serious this year and it occurs to me that even though I work alone, I don’t work in a vacuum. In fact, I couldn’t do what I do without a pile of people in my corner. And for that, I’m profoundly, extremely grateful.

My long suffering partner, Mr. Petrol Head (possibly to be rechristened My Squirrel Slayer – watch for an upcoming blog) has had my back, along with the rest of me, since I started this gig way back when. Not once has he questioned my sanity, my ROI or my need to bounce endless (and I mean endless) questions off of him.  He cooks, he designs my business cards, he listens to me rant, and he laughs. I love him for all of it. Mostly I just love him.

My kids – Uptown Girl and Teen Freud (the latter needs a rename since he’s left teen hood behind forever; sob) – have made me the writer I am. They’ve helped me become more patient (they may not agree with that), more disciplined and more creative. They’re bright, funny and truly the best kids a mother could ask for. I love them more than life. Even if they weren’t mine, I’d want to spend time with them. Yes, they are that cool. Mr. Petrol Head pointed out the other day that my career has, to a large extent, followed the trajectory of their growing up years. When they were young, I started writing picture books. As they grew, I segued into middle grade fiction. And now I write for teens and adults.

My web guy keeps my site up to date. Thank you Miles Barr for achieving the seemingly unachievable . . .  for returning my panicked emails . . .  and for reassuring me that glitches can be fixed even when they seem unfixable.

My fellow authors who follow the publishing road.  No one else gets it the way you do. I’d be a whole lot crazier if I didn’t have friends like you with me on my path.

The editors I’ve been blessed to know. I’ve been hugely lucky in the editorial department over the years and it shows in all my books. You might want to thank those editors, too. Trust me.

My readers.  A reader was the impetus for this blog. Not a reader of my books, but a medical technician who reads science fiction and fantasy. I was in for a test recently and when he found out I was a writer, he spent about ten minutes talking books with me. Not in the ‘how do I get published? sense’ but the ‘have you read this author?’ and ‘what do you think of this author?’ sense.  His passion was a sharp reminder of why I do what I do and for whom I write (it was also a good distraction from the task at hand but that’s a whole other story).

And last but not least – Team Sheltie.  They sometimes drive me nuts with interruptions and they bark waaaaay too much, but they get me out of the house for several walks a day, they always make me smile and they’re my soft place to land when I walk away from the keyboard at the end of the day.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!     dogswindow.jgp