Category: Writing Life

Rallying for People

Normally in this space I blog about books and the writing life, and sometimes about my garden or my dogs or how the raccoons are tearing up the pond yet again. The main point of today’s blog is to share this link:  https://www.canadahelps.org/en/pages/canadian-childrens-authors-and-illustrators-suppor/

Canadian children’s authors and illustrators have joined together in an effort to raise money to support Syrian refugees. Inspired by the enormously successful UK fundraising campaign organized by British YA author Patrick Ness, Sarah Harvey and Robin Stevenson have started a similar fundraising campaign in Canada. They’re asking those who can to make a small contribution to Doctors Without Borders, an independent medical relief group that operates medical facilities in Syria and supports more than 100 clinics and hospitals in the country. Their original goal to raise $10,000 was met in 72 hours so the goal has been doubled to $20,000.

In case you’ve missed the news, the situation is dire. The conditions for people fleeing Syria and other parts of the Middle East are horrific. Doctors Without Borders is providing very direct help, and the above link will take you to the signup sheet for a donation. It’s easy to contribute and you don’t need to be an author or an illustrator to do it. You don’t have to pledge much. You don’t have to pledge at all. This isn’t about pressure or guilt or anything remotely close. It’s an opportunity.

I know there are opportunities everywhere. There’s need everywhere too. There are homeless people downtown and people out of work and seniors who can’t afford the drugs they need and single mothers who don’t know where they’ll get money for next week’s school lunches and the food banks are low on donations. And we have our own bills to pay and the economy sucks and on and on it goes.

It’s exhausting, really. I’m exhausted thinking about it. But I’m not half as exhausted as those Syrian parents who are piling their families into a leaky boat for a life threatening trip to Europe.

Refugee numbers, worldwide, are mushrooming at a staggering rate. Since 2013 alone, the United Nations has documented a four-fold increase. Millions of people are impacted, many of them women and children. I’ve heard people say it’s too far away; they can’t relate. Others bring up the terrorist and security issue. But this isn’t about terrorism or security or politics. And how far is too far away?

If most of us dig far enough back into our own personal history, chances are we’d  find an ancestor or two who fled untenable conditions without much more than the clothes on their backs. Or maybe they migrated here under relatively comfortable conditions. But migrate they did and they probably had a helping hand along the way. It’s easy to forget that. It’s easier still to believe this isn’t about us.

When my kids were young, I told them about my husband’s family who fled a dictatorship in Europe and came to Canada. They couldn’t relate. That was one of the reasons I wrote Lesia’s Dream which highlights the Ukrainian immigration and subsequent internment at the start of World War 1. In writing that book, I spent many hours thinking about our ancestors. Those people who crossed oceans and endured hardship to give themselves, their children, and their children’s children, a better life.

To give my children a better life.

So Sarah and Robin and the rest of the Canadian children’s authors and illustrators aren’t rallying for a cause. We’re rallying to help fellow human beings. And we hope you will too.

My September Reads

movingofficedownload (2)As I write this, change is in the air. A late summer storm is knocking out power and bringing down trees, a reminder that even though it’s only the beginning of September, fall is on the way. The leaves on some of the trees are turning yellow and dropping early too. The hot, dry summer has stressed them; they don’t have the energy to hang on until the first frost. In the garden, the tomatoes are ripening at a frightening speed, the basil peaked weeks ago, and the raccoons wiped me out of figs a month before the fruit usually ripens.

Things are a little different inside the house this September too. After more than twenty years of having my office in the basement, I’m moving upstairs. Originally I chose the downstairs space so I’d have some privacy and a separate space when my kids were young. Now, Teen Freud wants the distance and he’d like to ‘relocate’ to what’s essentially a downstairs suite. While it makes good sense on a pile of levels, I have mixed feelings. I’m sad because my basement office is a cozy spot with a window seat full of pillows I love, funky purple trim on the walls, and a view of the garden. I’ve written over 20 books there! But I’m excited to paint and decorate a new space even if it won’t have my beloved window seat. I’ve been reading my stash of Feng Shui books to remind myself about the Chinese art of placement. And when I’m not reading up on placement tips, I’m dipping into these books:

On the Kindle: If You Only Knew by Kristan Higgins

At the Gym: The Residence: Inside the World of the White House by Kate Andersen Brower

Before Bed: The Sweetness of a Simple Life by Diana Beresford-Kroeger

Books read to date in 2015: 59

Lessons in Birthing a Book

laineyfinalIn April I wrote about how I self-published What Lainey Sees, a paranormal romance novel I’d had in the works for years.

It’s been an interesting six months. The indie book birth reminds me of childbirth, only my breasts aren’t leaking milk and I’m getting more sleep (most nights). When I was pregnant with my daughter, I was as prepared as most first-time mothers are: I’d read the books, taken the classes, listened to the advice of those who’d given birth before me. I’d made decisions on everything that mattered (and many things that didn’t).

I had a plan. I knew what to expect (You can stop laughing now).

Because then the contractions started and the plan I’d written and the decisions I’d made were blown out of the water by the reality of having a new person in our lives. A new person with her own needs, her own personality, and her own agenda.

However, What Lainey Sees was a book. There was no life I might ruin if I started solid food too early or used the wrong diapers or – God forbid – didn’t get her into the right preschool. Compared to childbirth and parenting, this was a breeze. This was in my control. And I had a plan.

You’d think I’d learn.

I did, finally. And this is what I’ve learned in the first six months of indie-publishing.

Nothing ever goes according to plan – book birth or childbirth – and that’s okay. Being flexible and going with the flow is a very good thing.

Everybody has an opinion. Some people are opinion bullies. You can spot them by the phrase they use:  I would never. As in: ‘I would never supplement with a bottle.’ And ‘I would never give my book away for free.’ Curiously, some of these opinion bullies don’t have babies – book or otherwise. They opine hypothetically. Unsaid but implied by opinion bullies is that what you’re doing is, at best, wrong or, at worst, ruining your child’s psyche or the entire publishing industry.

You will change your mind. The things you thought were sacrosanct (staying home with your child; not worrying about reviews for your book) will be challenged. I didn’t know that working would make me a better mother. That those reviews self-pubbing authors are always clamoring for aren’t ego cookies, but are critically important when it comes time to buy advertising or to keep your book visible.

Most of it isn’t life and death. Those opinion bullies would have you believe that every choice you make will make or break your child or your career. That failure to teach your child a second language will leave them with the mental skills of an amoeba. That launching your ebook on a singular platform (or multiple platforms, or pricing it too low or having a puce cover) will ruin your career forever (Note: I don’t recommend a puce cover and I do recommend a second language but it’s still not life and death).

Finally, remember the end goal. In those euphoric and exhausting days following any birth it’s easy to get caught up in minutiae and forget what really matters. At the end of the day, we all want the same thing: healthy, happy children and well-written, entertaining books. Children and books we can send out into the world with love and a prayer that they’ll find their place and be embraced whether that’s in the board room or the book store.

If you missed April’s blog and are curious about why I chose the indie route, go here: http://lauralangston.com/2015/03/26/and-now-for-something-completely-different/

 

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 

 

Coastal Infusion

P1000623 I received an email from a teacher-librarian a few weeks ago. This wasn’t a request for an author visit but instead a question about living in BC. The woman in question is doing her masters and was about to give a seminar focusing on BC authors. She wanted to know how living here informs or influences my writing.

I mulled it over for quite a while because it’s a surprisingly difficult question to answer. When I responded, I gave her some context, explaining that though I was born on Vancouver Island, I grew up both in Victoria and Vancouver, spent a year in Edmonton as a young teen and five years living in Winnipeg when I was in my early twenties. When I finally returned to the island in my late twenties, it really was like coming home.

I think there’s a certain mindset one has being born and raised on an island. You’re dependent, to a large extent, on ferries (or planes) for mail, food, fuel and the ability to come and go. You can’t just up and leave (or return for that matter) without checking a schedule or two. There’s also an understanding that land here is finite: there’s only so much room for garbage disposal or new buildings. That’s not so on the mainland where there’s always room out in the valley or up the mountain. Island living is said to be an insular sort of existence. If one defines insular as being set apart, I’d agree. If you toss in the other definition of insular being ignorant or disinterested in other cultures, I’d argue against it. That kind of insular attitude isn’t limited to island living, and I certainly don’t see it here on Vancouver Island.

With those thoughts rattling around my head, I was no closer to answering the woman’s question. How does living here specifically impact me as a writer? I finally came to this conclusion: living on the west coast impacts me. I bring that sensibility to my life generally which, by extension, flavors my writing. Some of my books are set in B.C. Others are set on the prairies which I grew to love too. A few are set in the U.S., though every U.S. setting I’ve never used has been on the west coast – Seattle, San Francisco, and Los Angles. I think that’s telling.

To me as a writer, setting plays as big a role as character. So when I place a story in a particular location, I need to have lived there or at least spent time there to absorb its nuances. But while I’ve been to New York, for instance, I haven’t spent as much time there as I have in Seattle, San Francisco or L.A.

I relate to the coast. I know the flora and fauna, the birds and animals. When someone complains about a heron fishing at their pond, I know exactly what that sharp, two-toned beak looks like as it dips into the water. When a friend mentions that the bark is peeling from their arbutus tree, my mind immediately goes to the intoxicating honey scent of the arbutus flowers that bloom in spring. I know what spring is like here (often rainy, though not this year), and summer and fall and winter too (most definitely rainy). I’ve lived with the nuances of light and dark, I’ve experienced drought and floods and windstorms. I understand the politics, the environmental issues, and the social nuances that permeate towns and cities up and down the coast.

Does that mean I’m limited to setting my books on the coast? No. I love to travel and spend time in other places, and I’m pretty good at researching too. So that’s not an issue. But when it comes right down to it, I get the west coast mindset. The salt water tang infused my blood at birth. And I’m more than okay with it.

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

 

A Writer’s Better Half

LB_Wedding2Happy anniversary to my better half  . . .  a guy who wears a variety of hats:  Mr. Petrol Head, Dad, son, and lord & master over Team Sheltie (and thank God someone is in control of those two).

The phrase ‘better half’ is something of a cliché these days. While it’s come to mean the superior half of a married couple, it originally referred to a person so dear that he or she was more than half of a person’s being. Whatever way you look at it, the intent is clear: someone who is good and true and holds a place of deep importance in one’s life.

That would be my better half. Much has been written about the wealth of support writers receive from editors and readers and critique partners and writing friends. It’s support we depend on and appreciate. But a writer’s better half is rarely mentioned. It’s too bad. They’re a silent (and sometimes not so silent) yet intimate companion on this crazy publishing journey, a journey they didn’t always expect when they took their vows. In our case, there were signs but I’m pretty sure Mr. Petrol Head chose to ignore them.

Over the years, he has offered advice and solace, and he has paid the bills when my writing didn’t. He has brainstormed plots and character arcs, he’s made too many dinners to count and he spent as much time as I did with our children so I could focus on this career. He constructed a sluice box for my gold rush book, designed business cards and websites, built me a treadmill desk, and he was always there with a hug when the journey seemed too tough to manage. He has helped me make sense of royalty statements, understand the business side of publishing better than some publishers could and he has pulled me back from the brink when I’ve been ready to press send on an irate email that needed a more tempered response.

He accepted without reservation my decision to trade a lucrative and successful job as a journalist for the uncertain and low paying job of a novelist. He has believed in me and loved me and never once complained that things didn’t turn out quite the way he expected on the career front. He is the wisdom and calm in my world.

That’s why he is, and always will be, my better half.

 

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