I sow seeds around this time every year: tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, sweet peas. And basil. Lots and lots of basil. (I make pesto for the freezer in the fall). With luck, some heat, and a little water, a single seed will grow into a large, sturdy plant that will bear lots of fruit. In the same way, the seed of an idea, tended and metaphorically watered, will grow into a book that touches people.

When I’m sowing seeds, I’m usually focused on the end product: the book I’ll hold in my hand or the tomato I’ll eat. But lately staying on track isn’t easy.

In the world of publishing, there’s lots of talk about what’s better – books that are traditionally published or books that are self-published. Go on Twitter and I guarantee you’ll find someone extolling the virtues of one over the other.

In the world of gardening, the ‘what’s better’ debate revolves around the kind of seed you sow. There are those who insist open pollinated (sometimes called heirloom) seeds are far superior and the only way to go. Still others tout the virtues of hybrid seeds (the result of planned crosses between first generation parents). Then there are genetically modified seed (the devil’s spawn some would suggest).

Admittedly I’m not a proponent of genetically modified seed but as for the rest of it . . . well, it’s starting to bore me. Hybrid seed or open-pollinated? Traditional publishing versus self? Who. Really. Cares.

And who is the definitive authority on what’s better anyway?

As long as that tomato is the real deal: drippy and delicious and stuffed between slabs of homemade bread (with extra Hellmann’s mayo and maybe a slice of Havarti), I’m happy. And as long as that book yanks me in and holds me hostage – electronically or otherwise – I’m all over it.

Because as far as I’m concerned, a tomato is a tomato and a book is a book. Why complicate things?

So long 2012, cue 2013.  Yes, there were some memorable moments over the last year: my son graduating from high school and starting university; visiting with family and friends; evenings at the beach with the dogs; books written and revised; a prodigious garden. Mostly, though, it was a mixed bag kind of year. You know the kind – a few too many challenges and too much time spent dealing with them.

Shortly before he graduated, my son came home from school with a raffle ticket. Must be present to win it said on the back. “Good luck with that,” he said with a laugh. I questioned his cynicism. More than half his friends don’t sit down for dinner with their family at night, he told me, adding that he couldn’t see how they’d rope their parents into going to the school fair to win a possible gift basket. “For sure they’ll text them a reminder, but I doubt that’ll make a difference.”

That started me thinking about how present I am in my own life. I always show up (to the dinner table for sure) but often my body is in the chair while my mind is back in the scene I need to finish. Or on the new website I want to get up. Or thinking about tomorrow’s looming issue instead of enjoying the meal and the company.

So as I turn the page on a new year (and kick off my new website; thank you Miles!), I’m not making any resolutions. Instead I’m picking a personal theme: to be present. Good, bad, challenges or celebrations: this year I’m going to show up and be in the moment. The scenes that are in my head or back on the computer will wait. The scene that’s in front of me – the person, the pet, the peach I’m picking from the tree – is all that matters.

David Bader said it best: “Be here now. Be someplace else later. Is that so complicated?”

Great words to kick off what I hope will be a great 2013!

 

As the holiday season approaches, I’d like to wish everybody a Merry Christmas. It’ll be a little quieter than usual at our house this year but we’ll all be together, and in light of the recent shooting in Newtown, Connecticut I’m aware of just how special that is. It reminds me to appreciate those I love and relish in the simple things in life.   It’s a reminder, too, that the best gifts in life are rarely things.

The best writing gift I ever received came at a time of high emotion. I was thirty, an established broadcast journalist, but just beginning my writing career. I’d had a few articles published, but no books, despite my efforts. My grandmother was in the hospital. When I went to see her, she introduced me to the nurse as ‘my granddaughter who writes books.’ My grandmother died three days later. I consider that her last and possibly most important gift to me. The belief she had in my abilities (sometimes more than I had in myself) and her utter conviction that it was only a matter of time before I was published in book length fiction gave me the courage and push I needed to keep going. I dedicated my first book to her.

As the year draws to a close and we welcome 2013 may you be blessed with love, laughter and the presence of the people you hold dear. And may we all be blessed with the greatest gift of all: peace.

 

 

 

 Take a look at the Finnish cover for Hannah’s Touch. Isn’t it gorgeous?  The Swedish and Norwegian versions are similar. It’s a bit like Christmas when the foreign editions show up in the mail – I never know what I’ll find when I unwrap them. It’s also a true thrill to realize that people around the world are reading my books.  I’m so grateful to do what I do!

 

 

This is the season of pumpkins, black cats, and superstitions. Maybe that’s why I’m thinking about writers and their rituals, superstitious or otherwise. We don’t all have rituals, but many of us do. And we’re in good company.

Apparently Charles Dickens had to arrange the ornaments on his desk in a certain way before he started writing. May Sarton cued up the 18th century music. Maya Angelou has used the same writing ritual for years: she gets up about five, drives to a hotel and is writing by 6:30 in the morning. Longhand. On yellow pads. Lying on the bed. Oh, and she asks staff to take everything off the walls so there’s just her, the Bible, Roget’s Thesaurus and some sherry. Isabelle Allende begins writing every new book on January 8th, a tradition that began in 1981 with a letter she wrote to her dying grandfather, one that sparked The House of Spirits.

Many writing rituals are more mundane. One author friend writes her first draft in long hand using a particular type of pen (she orders them in bulk). Another can’t write with shoes on her feet, only slippers. My ritual is an early morning work out, a quick check of email while I drink my first cup of coffee, and a glance at my ‘to do’ list. Then I’m ready to write. Oh, wait. I need a red pen handy (to cross items off said list) and a sweater hanging on the back of my chair to pull around my shoulders when a chill (or insecurity) hits. The latter ritual goes back years to a hand knit navy sweater given to me by my Aunt Edna. Having that sweater close was a reminder that someone had my back. It was a good feeling.

You might think I’m fussy or just plain weird, but there’s nothing weird or merely superstitious about rituals. Thanks to neuroscience, we now know rituals can increase confidence, reduce worry and make it easier to get things done.

Here’s how it works. When we repeat behaviors, the neurons in our brains communicate together, wire together, and activate each other. If we do things fairly often in a similar sequence, our brains get used to that order and become more efficient at the task.

“It’s like developing friendships,” says Dr. Brian Christie, Director of the Neuroscience Graduate Program at the University of Victoria in British Columbia. “At first, conversation is awkward and stilted but as you become more comfortable and closer better friends, those conversations flow more easily. It’s the same with neurons. The neurons that fire together, wire together.”

So if the neurons for writing are activated at the same time you follow a specific routine – whether that’s pouring your first coffee of the day, pulling on a familiar sweater, or rearranging the chotchkies on your desk like Dickens did – that means they’re primed and ready to go. And the more regularly they fire together, the bigger, stronger, and more powerful they become.

And I don’t know about you, but I can use all the help I can get.
So excuse me. I need to check my email, glance at my ‘to do’ list, and get to work.